Swept off into mysterious lands
by ncis-lady
Summary: Sam and Dean are stranded in Mirkwood Forest, and when a pack of wargs and orcs appears, they are lucky to find unexpected help in the form of 13 dwarves and a hobbit. But when one of their rescuers is hurt, choices have to be made on both sides. Set mid season 8 (SPN)/DOS (Hobbit), T for language, majorhurt!Fíli, minorhurt!Dean, caring!KíliDeanSam, no slash whatsoever. Spoilers!
1. Wrong place, wrong time

Hey everyone! This story idea has been in my head for a while, and I finally decided to write it down. There have been so many references in Supernatural to other fantasy works, like Twilight and Harry Potter, and I'd just love to see the boys come to Middle-Earth someday. Well, I guess that won't happen, but at least we got that great "But I can carry you!" quote in "Goodbye stranger" and Charlie reading The Hobbit to her mother in "Pac-Man fever", so that's fine. And since both these incidents take place during season 8, I'd say this story takes place at the very beginning of season 8 when Dean has just returned from Purgatory.

So I hope you enjoy this story, I've written the first four chapters already and I'm also pretty sure about how I want it to end, so updates should be somewhat regularly. (I'm mean, though - I'll be on holiday till Sunday so there won't be an update before then ;))

**Warnings:** Some swearing (Dean apologizes), majorhurt!Fíli, minorhurt!Dean, caring!Kíli-and-Sam, no slash whatsoever!

**Rating:** T just to be on the safe side

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I own neither The Hobbit, Middle-Earth, etc., nor Supernatural. This is for fun, not for profit.

**Time:** Supernatural: early season 8, Hobbit: DOS, when the dwarves reach Mirkwood Forest

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"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door.

You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet,

there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

_(J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings)_

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**1: Wrong place, wrong time**

This was not medieval London. Not even close.

Sam Winchester took in the scenery around him and knew immediately that something had gone wrong. He and his brother Dean were standing in the middle of a forest, with trees as large as houses and withered stones covered with moss surrounding them.

"I guess Cas screwed up," muttered Dean in frustration, and Sam nodded quietly. The angel had sent them back in time in order to find an ancient manuscript that had vanished in 1467, and had last been seen by Castiel in Great Britain. It had sounded too easy, Sam thought. Just a quick jump through time and space and they'd be back home for lunch.

"What do you think we should do?" asked Sam. Dean shrugged.

"Wait for Cas to show up and set things right, I guess. This is awesome. Really, fucking awesome!"

He kicked the nearest rock in anger, but all it did was cause him to stub his toe. Sam watched as his brother jumped on one leg, holding his foot with the other, sending curses into the black forest that would have made a sailor blush. The younger hunter couldn't help it – he laughed. He knew it was serious, but Dean looked too ridiculous in that moment in his medieval style clothes that he had gathered at a tiny LARPers store with the help of none other than Charlie.

_At least we convinced her to stay at home. Wouldn't be any good if she was lost in here, too._

Of course Charlie had been furious, but had finally given in when Sam had pointed out that her red hair and knowledge of mysterious things wouldn't exactly be wise to show in a town still stuck in, and following the rules of, the Middle Ages.

Sam wondered where they had landed instead. He felt for the silver dagger tucked into his waistband, and he let go of the breath he'd been holding when he took the small weapon into his hand. It wasn't much, but it was some sort of protection. Dean had taken his beloved silver knife, though he had also stated that he didn't feel quite complete without his colt.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Sam called out to his still swearing brother, and Dean shot him a dark look.

"Apart from the fact that we're in the middle of freaking nowhere, I'm bloody peachy!"

"I'm sure Cas will find a way to-"

But before he could finish his sentence, all hell broke lose.

Suddenly there were loud noises in the bushes, barking and howling and yelling, and Sam stood frozen for a second when he huge wolf appeared before them. It was enormously big, and Sam stared wide-eyed at the extremely hideous, human-like creature that was sitting on its back.

"What the..." he heard Dean gasp beside him, and the ugly figure cackled loudly as it produced a sword from behind its back. The beast jumped forward, and Sam felt himself being pushed out of the way by Dean and the animal missed him several inches. But as Sam looked up he saw that more were coming, and finally instincts won over his body as he grabbed his dagger tightly and slashed out aimlessly at the deadly creatures surrounding him. From the corner of his eyes he could see Dean doing the same, but he couldn't watch him for long when the attackers came closer and closer.

"Aaargh!"

The world stood still for what seemed like eternity when Sam flinched at the pained sound, turned around and could only watch in horror as Dean was sent flying through the air by a massive wolf, landing hard on the ground.

"Dean!"

But another wolf was suddenly in front of him, even bigger than the previous one, and more were coming. The creature bared its enormous, deadly fangs, and its rider let out a maniacal, shrill laugh. Sam held his silver knife up in front of him, his eyes darting from the beast before him to Dean, still on the ground, and back.

Dean could feel a tree root pressing itself into his back, and a pain in his shoulder flared through his body as he tried desperately to get to his feet. The wolf jumped forward, teeth aiming at his helpless prey, and the brunette barely escaped the deadly attack when he rolled to the side. A quiet moan escaped his lips as the beast grazed his calf with its paws, and he couldn't help but close his eyes for a split second.

It was in that moment, when he felt his leg slashed open, that panic rose inside of him. The whole scene conjured memories of hellhounds and agony and fear, of purgatory and monsters lurking in the dark, and he tried in vain to crawl away from the wolf. The animal came nearer, standing so close to Dean that he could smell its foul breath. He gagged and felt for his dagger which he had lost in the fight, but the instant he moved the large wolf growled, stepping onto Dean's legs, pinning him in place.

_I'm sorry Sam._

"Oi, you!"

Suddenly the wolf flinched, and Dean's eyes widened when people came running in from somewhere between the trees. They looked small at first sight, and the injured hunter gasped when a blond, bearded man jumped forward, wielding a glinting sword in each hand, and the creature let go of Dean, focusing on the stranger instead. Out of the corner of his eyes Dean could see the other men fighting off the wolves and their ugly riders, but he couldn't take his eyes of the fight in front of him. The man swung one sword at the beast, and it let out a loud shriek as blood began to drip from a deep gash on its flank. The rider produced an evil looking blade and urged his mount to go on. Metal clashed onto metal, the wolf howled and gnarled, and all the time the small blonde dodged the rider's sword swiftly, handling his own weapons with a kind of ease as a drummer would handle his sticks.

Groaning, Dean got to his feet, grabbing his small dagger tightly as he turned around, searching frantically for his brother.

"Sam!"

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**Review are very much appreciated!**

**I know this chapter was shorter than in my usual fics - what do you think? Too short? **


	2. A strangely familiar place

Thanks so much everyone for your reviews! I had a fab mini holiday in Finland, it's such a beautiful country, so if you ever get the chance to go there - do it!

Here's chapter 2 of this little crossover, and I wonder what you think about it.

By the way, I realised that Castiel doesn't appear in season 8 before episode 6 or so, being left behind in Purgatory, meaning that the setting would be more like mid-season 8 when Cas is back. (It doesn't really matter for the story, though.)

Enjoy!

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**2: A strangely familiar place**

Sam wasn't hard to miss, actually, as he stood out tall against the rest of the group, stabbing one of the ugly human-shaped creatures with his knife in that very moment. Dean made to run towards his brother, but found his path suddenly blocked by another attacker. It screeched as it wielded its deadly swords, and Dean could see black, rotten teeth gnarling at him, the eyes of the creature mere slits with bloodlust sparkling in the horribly dark orbs. Instincts set in when a rush of adrenaline ran through the hunter's body, he knew that feeling, he knew it too well after all those months in the perilous darkness of Purgatory. His injured leg protested against the movements, but he gritted his teeth and ignored the throbbing until it faded away to make way for other, more intense feelings.

_Kill it. Kill it, or it will you._

He didn't need to think, he just acted, stabbing the cheering creature with his silver knife. When he pulled the blade out it was covered in black, thick blood. He didn't have time to think about it, though, for still more were coming, and Dean slashed and hacked and sliced at everything that kept him from getting to Sam and tried to end his life in this forsaken forest.

_I've made it out before, you bastards. I will do it again. I will not die here, not after everything I – _

A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the forest, and Dean froze, his stomach churning at the noise. It was a sound of pain, and it was way too human to come from a wolf.

"Fíli!"

A panicked yell, and in the next second an arrow flew past Dean's head, missing him by a literal hair's breadth and landing itself right into the head of the wolf he'd escaped from just minutes ago. The creature fell dead to the ground, and Dean choked when his eyes fell onto the small figure next to it. The blonde didn't move and Dean acted on mere instinct as the beast's rider jumped off its dead mount, brandishing his sword, and approached the lifeless figure with a malicious smile on his face. Dean sprinted forward just when another arrow sunk into the enemy's head. It fell without a sound, and a black-haired man rushed past him, dropping to his knees beside his companion.

"Fíli! Fíli, no!"

The man looked up, and Dean thought that for the rest of his life he wouldn't forget the look of utter terror on the surprisingly young face.

"Help! We need help!"

Most of the wolves and riders were lying dead on the ground, and the rest fled into the woods. Dean could see three of the small men follow them, the undergrowth rustled, then it was quiet. The sudden silence was overwhelming, Dean could hear his heart hammering in his chest, and the only noise came from the injured one lying on the forest floor. Pained groans filled the air, and while Dean walked fast over to Sam, the other men hurried to their friend and gathered around him.

"What the hell?" hissed Dean when he reached his brother. "Seriously, man, what the hell? Wolves? Midgets? Is it freaking Halloween already?"

Sam shrugged, eyeing the strangers from the distance.

"I don't know. I feel like I've been here before, but... that can't be." He motioned to the group of people. "They remind me of something."

"They remind me of that midget at the circus," grumbled Dean, but the soft expression on his face as he watched the strange people betrayed his harsh words. "He saved my life, that blond one."

_If he dies because of me..._

But he wouldn't allow his thoughts to go further. Something was horribly wrong here. It wasn't only the fact that he and Sam had quite obviously not been sent to 15th century London, but to some wild country with horrid, evil creatures lurking in it. There was something about the forest that made him feel uneasy. It was dark and cold, as if no light had ever fallen onto the earthen ground. His heart felt heavy, as if he had never known happiness in his life. Without thinking he approached the group of strangers, and Sam followed closely behind. Dean grabbed his dagger tightly as he walked. The weird men had saved both his and his brother's life, but somehow the older Winchester didn't really trust them, either. Who were those strange, small men, who had come out of nowhere with weapons so unreal and deadly at the same time?

"Do you think more orcs will come?", asked one of them, a grim-looking one with a bald head and bushy beard.

"Who can say in these forsaken lands, Dwalin?", sighed another, with long black hair, only a short beard and thin braids framing his chin. He looked up at Sam and Dean, and even from the distance Dean could see a fire in the incredibly blue eyes. "Strange beings run around here in Mirkwood, and something tells me that orcs aren't the worst of all."

Sam stopped dead in his tracks as the black-haired man spoke.

_Orcs. Dwalin. Mirkwood. No, it cannot be. It cannot be._

"Dean," he whispered, and his brother turned around. Sam cast a glance at the group of strangers and took in their appearance, their small, yet stout built, their beards, their weapons. He tried to not look at the one on the ground, and neither at the shockingly scarlet blood colouring the foliage underneath him. "Dean, I think I... I think I know where we are."

Dean's eyes widened and he raised his brows, waiting for more information. Sam hesitated, the whole idea seemed suddenly so ridiculous, but deep down he knew that he was right.

"I think we're in Middle-Earth."

He blushed slightly as he said it, and the look on Dean's face ranged from 'Jesus help the poor geek' to 'What the hell' within a split second. The younger brother shifted uncomfortably where he stood. How did one convince someone of something so incredibly crazy?

"Listen, Dean. It all fits. Those midgets, as you call them – they are dwarves. Don't look at me like that, Dean! They look just like Tolkien described them in his works. And the black-haired one called his friend 'Dwalin' – that's one of the characters in Tolkien's book, one who set out as part of a company of thirteen dwarves and a hobbit to reclaim their lost home in Erebor by slaying the dragon Smaug, and..."

"Geez, Sam, my head is spinning!"

"And those vile creatures, the orcs? They are dark beings, riding on their wargs – which are the wolves – and killing everything in their way. And Mirkwood Forest, I remember that... it's the realm of Thandruil, elven king in the woods, and..."

"How do you know that?" Dean asked incredulously. He had spoken a bit too loudly, and the dwarf with the blue eyes looked up again at the two brothers, one hand pressed firmly onto the shoulder of his wounded companion.

"Bobby gave me the books when I was a kid. 'The Hobbit', 'The Lord of the Rings'... Have you never read any of them?"

"I was too busy-"

"-having sex with girls, yeah, I know," Sam huffed. But before he could say more, a strangled cry came from the blonde one on the ground, and Dean and Sam stared horrified when he jerked under the strong hands of his friends, his young face contorted in pain as an older one with a grey beard tended to his wound. They stepped closer, and Sam's stomach lurched when he saw the full extent of the dwarf's injury. There was a deep gash in his abdomen, the rims of the wound frayed, and blood was staining the hands of the ones holding him down. The blue-eyed dwarf shot the two brothers a warning look, and they stopped simultaneously. Sam almost expected the dwarf to growl. Somehow his posture resembled that of a bear protecting its cubs, and he seemed just as dangerous.

"Hold your brother still!" ordered the old dwarf, obviously having taken no notice of the strangers, and the raven-haired youth who had flung the arrows at the warg earlier nodded. "I need to clean his wound, or it will get infected. Keep him still, for Mahal's sake! He's losing too much blood already even without him tossing around!" he repeated more loudly when the blonde dwarf continued to writhe, eyes pressed shut, soft groans escaping his lips.

"It's going to be okay, Fee," murmured the archer, barely audibly to Sam, kneeling behind his brother and pulling him up a little so that his head was resting in his lap. He laid his hands onto his shoulders, and the wounded dwarf relaxed slightly under the firm pressure. "I know it's going to hurt, but you've got to stay still. You hear me, brother?"

"Aye," the blonde breathed almost inaudibly, and his brother nodded at the healer. The older one produced a bottle from the inside of his cloak, opened it and quickly poured the liquid onto the wound.

The scream that followed rang in Dean's ears. He felt sorry for them, for both the blonde who had fallen unconscious when his body couldn't bear the pain anymore, and for his brother, who was pushing strands of hair from the wounded dwarf's forehead, eyes swimming with unshed tears while the healer continued cleaning the wound. The two looked so different, but the scene before him left Dean without a doubt that these were indeed brothers. He knew the feeling all too well, the helplessness of not being able to offer more comfort, the wish to take your brother's pain away, the fear that this time you would lose him.

"Is there anything we can do?" he heard someone say, and he snapped out of his memory when he realised it had been Sam who had spoken. He looked at his little brother, and he knew from the expression in his brown eyes that he had felt something, too.

All eyes were suddenly on them, and Dean was aware of how strange he and Sam had to look among the dwarves. One of the group – the one with the piercing blue eyes – stood up from where he'd been kneeling beside his injured friend and stepped forward. Instinctively, Dean backed away. The dwarf was small, but the blade he was carrying was sharp, and something told Dean that this one was a warrior he would have trouble to beat in a fight.

"What are two men doing in these parts?"asked the dwarf, his sword hanging loosely, but none the less threateningly, in his hand. "Who are you, and what errands do you have here?"

"That's none of-"

But an elbow in the ribs told him that Sam would do the speaking for now.

"My name is Sam, son of John, and that is my brother Dean. We mean no harm. We are merely travelling to visit some relatives."

"And where would they live, those relatives?"

Dean felt his heart drop, but Sam held the dwarf's steady gaze.

"They reside in Dale, and that is our destination. We were surprised by the orcs' attack, for I did not know that they were roaming these lands." He motioned to the dead bodies around them. "We would be dead if it wasn't for you. We are deeply in your debt, and we offer our help."

The dwarf looked at his unconscious friend, and when he turned his head to Sam and Dean again the older hunter thought that he saw something flicker in those blue orbs. The fire in them was still there, but it wasn't wild and deadly. It was warm and loving, and Dean suddenly noticed how alike the old one and the young archer looked.

"Who are you?" he burst out before he could control himself. Sam stiffened beside him, and the dwarf eyed him sharply. His blade gleamed dangerously despite the lack of light in the dark forest.

"I am Thorin, son of Thráin. And if my nephew dies because you couldn't handle a warg, I shall have your head."

His deep voice was deadly serious as he spoke, and subconsciously Dean took another step backwards. But the dwarf didn't follow him, but looked intently at Sam instead.

"I don't think you can do anything. Our healer is well-trained in tending to battle wounds."

He said it matter-of-factly, but Sam thought that he could see a shadow of sadness in the blue eyes. This wasn't the first gruesome wound this dwarf had seen, and suddenly Sam's breath caught in his throat.

_Thorin, son of Thráin. Nephew. Oh God. _

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**A/N: It's my birthday on Monday! Argh, and even closer to the dreaded 3-0... so reviews would definitely be a great birthday present *hinthint***


	3. Friends in unlikely places

Thanks everyone for the reviews! :)

**To the guest reviewer** who said that Dean knows the LotR: I don't think he ever mentioned it before the "But I can carry you!" part in the middle of season 8, so from my point of view he didn't know it before then and therefore not during their time in Middle-Earth. (Please correct me if I'm wrong!) But - spoiler alert for the end of the story - maybe this little adventure will make Dean grab a book and celebrate Tolkien Reading Day ;)

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**3: Friends in unlikely places**

"What is it, Sammy?"

Dean looked at him worriedly, but Sam shook his head.

"Later." He would have to tell him eventually, but now was not the time. His gaze fell onto Dean's leg, and he pressed his lips tightly. The fabric of his brother's trousers was torn and stained with blood. "First, we need to clean that wound of yours."

"It's nothing," said Dean dismissively, but Sam wouldn't hear any of that. He turned to Thorin.

"I know you don't owe us anything, but my brother here is injured, too. Do you think your healer could spare some alcohol so I can clean his wound?"

"Ask him," Thorin answered gruffly. "It's not for me to decide. What I have to decide is what to do with you, but now my priorities lie somewhere else."

Sam nodded, understanding the hidden warning, and cautiously walked over to where the grey-bearded healer was still tending to his companion. The black-haired youth looked up as Sam approached, and Sam offered a friendly smile.

"How is your brother holding up?"

"He's unconscious, but maybe that's good as long as Óin is sewing him up." He looked questioningly at the healer, but the older one seemed to not have heard him and continued his task. Sam watched him as he sewed the wound neatly shut, and he saw that the dwarf was indeed good at what he was doing. The wound wasn't bleeding anymore, and maybe in the future a scar would be the only reminder of the incident.

_What future does he have?_

"What's your name?" he asked, although he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"Kíli," replied the young dwarf, "and this is my brother Fíli. And what is your name?"

"I'm Sam, and that one over there is my brother Dean. And Dean is injured, too," he added, turning towards the healer who was now busy wrapping Fíli's arm with a bandage. A cut ran down the dwarf's forearm, but it didn't seem to be too deep. The healer had staunched the bleeding and apparently didn't see the need for sewing the wound, and Sam agreed. Still a bandage would indeed be useful to prevent infection. "Excuse me," he said, then stopped. How did you address a dwarf? "Mister Óin?" he tried, but the healer didn't respond.

"You have to speak louder," said Kíli, the ghost of a cheeky grin on his pale face. "He's quite deaf. Óin!" he yelled, and the healer looked up from his work.

"Excuse me, mister Óin," repeated Sam, "but my brother is injured. It's just a few scratches, but I'd like to clean his wounds just to be on the safe side. Do you think you could spare some of the alcohol you used on Fíli, if it's not too much to ask?"

"Sure, sure," said Óin, and he smiled warmly at Sam. "Once I'm finished here, I can have a look at your brother, if you like."

"Thank you, that would be very nice," answered Sam, relief flooding through him at the dwarf's friendliness. "I know a thing or two about treating wounds, but this is the first one induced by a warg that I see."

"Warg wounds can be nasty," nodded the healer. "But they are not necessarily fatal!" he added hastily, when Kíli looked fearfully at his motionless brother. "It's just that warg fangs aren't exactly the cleanest weapon to be hurt with, and therefore the biggest threat is infection. As long as he doesn't get feverish, your brother will be fine, my lad."

He put the small bottle of alcohol into Sam's hand.

"Go help your brother. I will be there in a minute."

"Thank you," said Sam, but the healer was again focusing on his young patient and didn't seem to hear Sam.

As Sam walked over to Dean, he watched the other dwarves who were standing in groups. Thorin was standing with the bald one – Dwalin – and a white-bearded dwarf, and they were obviously deep in discussion. A very fat dwarf was sitting on the ground rummaging in his backpack, and a rather slender dwarf, who looked just as young as Fíli and Kíli from the distance, was staring at his injured friend worriedly. The others were talking quietly, and Sam felt their eyes on him as he walked.

"Alright, Dean, let's get this over with. I got some alcohol from their healer – Óin, that's his name – so hold still."

Dean sighed inwardly. Sam was in full-on caring mode, and it would have been a nice change to see that his little brother cared about him after all, but right now Dean didn't like it. He was fine, or so he thought, and he was more worried about the young dwarf who had put himself between him and the warg than about himself. Still he knew that his brother was right, and reluctantly he rolled up his trouser leg. The bleeding had stopped, dry blood clotting the scratches that the warg had made, and it didn't hurt much.

"It's gonna sting a little," warned Sam before he poured some liquid out of the bottle in his hands onto the wound. Dean hissed sharply through gritted teeth. It felt like fire on his skin, and he felt even sorrier for the blonde dwarf.

Suddenly the old healer was standing next to them. He bent down and gave Dean's leg a scrutinising look.

"I have some herbs here that might help to prevent infection," he said, holding out his hand. He was carrying a small pot with a greenish paste that smelled strange, but not bad. "I used it on Fíli, too. Put it onto the wound before you bandage it."

Dean was surprised about the dwarves' hospitality, to say the least. He and Sam were complete strangers, and yet they didn't hesitate to help.

_Well, except for Thorin and Dwalin. They don't really trust us._

His brother took the medicine from Óin's hands and applied some of the paste onto the cleaned scratches. Dean expected it to hurt, but to his relief all he felt was a weird kind of warmth radiating from the herbs.

"Thank you," he muttered, and the healer patted his back.

"It was nothing. I've been a healer for many decades, and I see it as my duty to-"

"Óin!"

Dean flinched at the panic in the cry. It had come from the young archer, and with surprising speed the healer got to his feet. He hurried over to the two young dwarves, and without thinking Dean got up and followed after him. Sam was walking behind, as if he was insecure about whether or not he ought to get involved. But the older Winchester found himself strangely connected to the injured dwarf. Maybe it was simply the fact that he'd risked his life to save that of a stranger, but somehow there was something more to it.

_He didn't hesitate to save my life. Heaven forbid he has to pay for that._

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**What do you think?**


	4. The fear of losing

Thank you all so much for your kind reviews! Time for some hurt!Fíli, some brotherly moments, a (brief) supernatural trip down memory lane and the introduction of a few more dwarves.

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**4: The fear of losing**

Dean reached the spot where Óin, Thorin and the black-haired youth were huddled around Thorin's nephew. The latter was obviously awake, but his eyes were half closed and his forehead was covered with sweat. He whimpered when the healer touched the sewn-up wound, and his brother bit his lip as he laid his hand onto the blonde hair.

"Shh, Fee, it's okay."

"It hurts…" the blonde whispered, and the healer looked sharply at his brother.

"What happened, Kíli?"

"I don't know," he replied helplessly. "I thought he was fine, but then he stirred and woke up and he was all hot to the touch, said he was hurting, and he said he was cold but how can he be cold?"

His dark eyes were shining with anxiety, worry for his brother seeming to take its toll on the young one.

"I thought you cleaned the wound, Óin," said Thorin, "but he shows all signs of infection."

"I did clean it," answered Óin rather sharply. He probed Fíli's wound gently, barely touching it, but still the young dwarf writhed underneath him, strangled moans escaping his otherwise shut mouth. He was shivering violently, his head still resting in Kíli's lap, and the young dwarf's eyes darted from Óin to Thorin and back.

"What's happening?" His voice sounded fearful and almost child-like, and Dean wondered how young he actually was. He didn't even have a beard, only dark stubbles covering his chin which made him look almost like a man from the real world, if you didn't take into account the fact that he was only half the average size of a man.

"I think it's not the warg wound that's causing him trouble," mumbled Óin thoughtfully. Carefully he pulled up Fíli's sleeve, and Dean wasn't the only one gasping at the sight. The formerly clean bandages were stained with dark blood.

"Durin's beard, that's bad!" exclaimed a dwarf with a huge, funny hat who had suddenly appeared behind Thorin, and Óin shot him a warning look as Kíli's growing fear became even more visible on his white face.

"Maybe I've overlooked something," he said. "Keep still, Fíli, I'll try not to hurt you."

Carefully he took off the bloody bandage, with one eye on his patient who was breathing raggedly under his brother's firm hands. Dean's insides twisted to a knot when he looked at the wound. It couldn't have been more than a cut before, but blood was pooling from it and the skin around it was of an angry red colour.

Óin gently touched the dwarf's arm, and Fíli screamed. The sound of agony tore at Dean's insides, and he felt himself dropping to his knees and grasping the youth's legs as he tried to wriggle away from the healer and Kíli's iron grip on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Fíli!", Óin called out, and the other dwarves stood and watched with shock in their eyes as Thorin laid both hands onto his nephew's torso in order to pin him down.

"Make it stop!" gasped the blonde, staring wide-eyed at his brother, "Make it stop, please!"

But all Óin could do was clean the wound again, and eventually Fili's hoarse screams died away until he was laying shivering on the ground, quiet but for an occasional moan in between laboured breaths. Dean released his firm grip on the dwarf's legs, but remained kneeling on the earthy ground, unable to look away from the brothers.

Kíli was still in the same position he'd been in ever since Óin had first tended to Fíli, and he didn't look like he'd change it soon. He was bent over, his face almost touching his brother's, and he was murmuring soothing words that Dean barely heard.

"Gurùd mabakh, nadad."

"But it hurts. Like… fire. Everywhere. Hurts, Kee."

"Aktùbi, Fíli. I know."

Their language sounded strange to Dean, but there was a softness in Kíli's voice that made it seem warm and friendly. The blonde dwarf seemed to relax a little, but he was still shivering despite the heat radiating from his fevered body.

"What's wrong with him?" asked a timid-looking young dwarf, staring at his friend. Óin looked helplessly at his patient.

"I'm not sure, Ori. Something's not right with that wound. That's not an ordinary infection."

"What do you mean by that?" came Kíli's choked answer. "Can you do nothing?"

"I've heard that sometimes orcish blades can be poisoned," replied Óin quietly, and when Kíli gasped and pressed his hand more firmly onto his brother's shoulder the healer turned to Thorin.

"I'm afraid this is beyond my power, Thorin. If it is indeed orcish poison, then it's evil magic against which I am powerless."

"And what would that mean for Fíli?" asked Thorin sharply. The healer didn't reply immediately, and the black-haired dwarf took a step further towards him. "Will – my – nephew – live?"

"I fear he will not last the night."

The words were almost inaudible, but they felt like thunder in Dean's ears. He heard Sam inhale deeply behind him, but all he could do was staring at the two young brothers in front of him. The blonde one was laying almost still, his body being wracked with shivers from time to time, and his eyes were pressed shut as if by keeping them closed he could keep away the pain that was written all over his face. The dark-haired brother was caressing his hair while tears were running unchecked down his pale face.

"No, no, no," he was muttering, and it was a sound of such misery and fear that Dean felt his own eyes burning as memories of the past flooded his mind. Memories of holding Sam in the dirt, feeling his life leaving him, wet blood sticky on his hands when his world was crashing down around him. Memories of sitting next to a still, deadly-pale Sam, when he had nothing left to lose.

"No, no, no! Don't die on me, Fee. Don't do that to me, don't you dare!"

_It's not even that bad, alright? Sammy, Sam! Hey, listen to me, we are going to patch you up, okay... You'll be as good as new. I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to take care of you. I gotcha. It's my job, right, watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother... Sam... Sam... Sam! Sammy!_

Dean thought that if a heart could break, he would find the shattered remains of Kíli's heart on this bloodstained forest ground.

"I won't. Someone's got to look out for you," answered Fíli, his voice strained and raspy, and Kíli pressed his forehead onto his brother's for a brief moment.

"There is one place where we could find help," said the white-bearded dwarf quietly. Kíli's head shot up at the words, a sparkle of hope flickering in his shining dark eyes. Thorin eyed his friend wearily.

"No, Balin. Not them."

His voice had a bitter tone as he spoke, and Sam watched sympathetically as Kíli's face fell at his uncle's words.

"What do you mean? Who are _they_?"

But the black-haired leader ignored the younger one and looked sharply at Balin instead.

"I will not give my nephew into the hands of the elves."

"Elvish medicine might be his only chance," muttered Óin.

"Gandalf..."

"Gandalf is gone to Mahal knows where, Thorin!" cried Ori, his young voice hitching as his brown eyes went from his leader to his friend on the ground. "Fíli needs help now!"

"Thorin knows that," intervened another dwarf, who laid his hand onto the younger one's shoulder. He looked almost as grim as the tattooed Dwalin, thought Sam, with his bulky stature and the battle axe in his hands, black sticky blood still dripping from the blade.

"But Dori -"

"Shut up, both of you!" gnarled Dwalin, and not only Ori and Dori, but everyone flinched. There was something intimidating about the rather tall dwarf. But his fierce expression changed when he knelt down next to Fíli, laying one hand onto his forehead.

"How do you feel, laddie?"

The blonde opened his eyes, a hint of surprise reflected from his blue orbs. Sam could only guess that he hadn't expected the grim warrior Dwalin, of all dwarves, to ask this. He lifted himself up a little and seemed to think for a second before he answered.

"I'm cold," he said hoarsely, and a tremor ran through his body as if to prove his statement. Dwalin narrowed his eyes at that point, but waited for Fíli to say more. "But... but my arm is on fire. Hurts."

He exhaled audibly, closing his eyes and letting his head sink into Kíli's lap again.

"You'll be fine," whispered his brother, "we'll find the elves and they'll patch you up. We'll be off again in no time and get to the Lonely Moun-"

"Kíli!"

Thorin shot his nephew a warning look. For a split second it seemed to Sam that the young one wanted to say more, but then decided against it and focused on his brother instead.

"We'll get you better, Fee. Mahgandi, nadad."

"Aktûbi. Dijnûi zu, nadadith. "

Sam couldn't understand the words, but they held a kind of intimacy that made him feel almost uncomfortable just looking at the brothers. They seemed to communicate not only by their foreign language, but also by mere looks and subliminal gestures. Sam was sure that were they suddenly blind and deaf, they would somehow still be able to understand each other. He knew that feeling, and he wondered if he would ever find it again.

* * *

**A/N:**

**_Gurùd mabakh, nadad._ = Fear nothing, brother.**

**_Mahgandi, nadad._ = I promise, brother.**

**_Aktûbi. Dijnûi zu, nadadith._ = I know. I trust you, little brother.**

**PLEASE correct me if I got the Khuzdul wrong!** **I used this awesome website (dwarrowscholar) but I'm not sure if I got the grammar right. (So if I ever have too much time and no ideas for new stories, I might just try to learn Khuzdul. If I made it through French grammar, Khuzdul can't be that difficult ;))**

**I would have loved to see some more brotherly moments between Fíli and Kíli in Bard's house, apart from that brief scene in which Óin was tending to Kíli's leg and Fíli was standing next to the bed. So I reversed their roles here - hoping for a nice scene in the extended edition!**


	5. A matter of trust

Again, thanks everyone for your great reviews! I hope you like this one - I thought it was time for Kíli and Balin to step up to Thorin.

* * *

**5: A matter of trust**

Dwalin had gotten to his feet and spoke quietly to Thorin, and Sam strained his ears to hear something.

"He's got a fever, I'm sure of it. But that doesn't fit his feeling cold. Thorin, that's not good. That's really not good."

"Do you think I don't know that?" exclaimed Thorin in frustration, and all heads turned in his direction. The black-haired dwarf ran a hand through his hair, a look of utter despair making his face look worn out and grey. A small figure stepped forward from the crowd, and immediately Sam noticed his curly hair and bare feet.

_The Hobbit. _

Sam had no doubt about it.

"Why can't you ask the elves for help? I know dwarves and elves aren't exactly friends –," at this some dwarves coughed loudly, "-but surely you wouldn't leave your kin to die rather than ask for their help?"

"We have a saying where I come from, master Hobbit. Dijnu hyadâkh ghivasha, urùthûkhikizu hyêmrûr ra hurumizu tada khajimuhîzd ana zu. Trust is a rare treasure, hand it out scarcely and honour those that give it to you. The elven scum on the wooden throne doesn't deserve my trust!"

"But Fíli deserves to live!"

"I agree with our burglar," came a weak voice from where Fíli was laying, and Sam noticed a faint smile on Kíli's face. His brother hadn't given up yet.

Thorin sighed and turned his head towards his nephews. It was fascinating, Sam thought, to see the change in his eyes. They had been dark with anger when he'd spoken of the elven king, but now they were of a soft blue, irradiating warmth that he surely only showed rarely. He knelt down next to Fíli and laid his hand onto his shoulder.

"Fíli, I promise you that I will find a way. But I cannot take the way to the elves. You know I can't. They would ask questions, they would probably not let us go on. We'll have to trust Gandalf to find us, as he has done before. You understand that, don't you?"

Fíli nodded slightly, his forehead creased as he reached for his uncle's hand.

"But what if... what if he doesn't come?" he asked quietly. His voice was trembling almost inaudibly as he spoke. There was an underlying fear in the young dwarf's question, and by the way Thorin cast his eyes down and didn't look at Fíli as he got up, Sam knew that the older dwarf had heard it, too. Fíli's eyes widened a little at the small gesture, realisation and understanding dawning upon him when his uncle didn't respond. He didn't speak, though, but simply nodded again and closed his eyes.

For a moment Kíli just stared at his brother, and Sam knew that he, too, saw his flushed cheeks, saw his occasional shivering, and above all saw the blood staining the bandage around his arm, the red forming a striking contrast to the white linen. He knew he heard Fíli's ragged breaths as he fought the poison in his blood, and felt the beating of his heart.

It didn't surprise him when Kíli leapt to his feet.

"Is that it? You will leave him to die rather than seek help among the elves?" he cried out loud. Thorin narrowed his eyes as he watched his nephew standing before him, hands curled into fists, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly as he stood next to his brother.

"I will not let him die, Kíli!"

"Then do as Balin says!"

"Kíli, you've got to understand that the elves are not an option. You don't know their king as I do. He isn't to be trusted! I would never forgive myself if I gave my sister's son into their hands."

"And if he dies? How will you forgive yourself _that_?" Kíli's face was red with rage, his dark eyes rimmed with tears of anger. "You can't just stand here and wait for Gandalf and do nothing!"

"For Mahal's sake, Kíli, the elves would never let us go again in time, don't you understand?"

"Then I'll take him there on my own and you wait here until we get back!"

"Don't be foolish, Kíli! We mustn't risk delay, you know that! We'll never find the door if we waste time –"

"_Waste time_?" Kíli yelled, his skin turning from red to white as he mimicked his uncle's words. "It's my brother dying we're talking about, and you think it's a waste of time to save his life? Just because of some fixed idea of that blasted mountain –"

"Our homeland! This is why I didn't want to take you along, you're too young to understand - there are things worth dying for!"

The silence rang in Sam's ears. Somehow all noises seemed to be drowned out in that moment, when he watched Kíli's expression falter, his shoulders sagging down as he dropped to his knees beside Fíli again. He didn't look up when Thorin called for Balin and Dwalin.

"You!" yelled Thorin, pointing at Dean. "Come with me, now! I have some questions."

Sam could see a flicker of worry in his brother's eyes, but the elder one squared his shoulders and followed Thorin, Dwalin and Balin as they went away from the rest of the group.

* * *

Dean hated to admit his insecurity. He was worried about what the dwarf wanted to know, and about what he would do if he wasn't pleased with his answers. He wished Sam could have gone in his stead, but Thorin's command had made it clear that he wouldn't change his mind.

Suddenly Thorin halted and turned around to face Dean.

"Now tell me the truth, Dean, son of John. What are you two really doing here? Where do you come from?"

"Sam has already told you."

"He said you were on your way to Dale, but I bet my beard that you aren't fishermen. I saw you fighting with that toothpick you call a weapon. A simple fisherman isn't capable of that."

Dean shifted uneasily as he felt Thorin's stern gaze on him. He had no idea where men in Middle-Earth would live. He decided for a bold move.

"I don't think it's any of your business. I guess we both have secrets here, don't we? Or why are you so adamantly refusing to see the elves?" He could see Thorin's cheeks reddening, and he knew that he was walking a dangerous road. "Alright, maybe we weren't completely honest. We had a guide, and we lost him – or he lost us – and now we have to wait until he finds us."

"Then wait somewhere else," growled the dwarf. "We have our own problems here, we can't take care of you as well."

"We don't need to be taken care of!" protested Dean. "I'd just like to know that Fíli will be okay," he added quietly. From the corner of his eye he could see Balin smile at his words.

"That shouldn't be of your concern," said Thorin rather roughly. "There's nothing you can do. We'll find a way to save him."

By the tone of his words Dean knew that he was dismissed, but he stayed where he was when Balin stepped forward.

"Thorin, you ought to think this over again."

"I have, and my answer is still no. I cannot take that risk."

The bald dwarf to his left nodded, testing the edge of his axe absentmindedly with his thumb.

"Nî ikrit fund," he said grimly, and when he noticed Dean's confusion he added, "Never trust an elf."

"Durin's beard, Dwalin, not you as well!" shouted Balin, for the first time looking angry. It was strange to witness for Dean, seeing the friendly, white-bearded dwarf who reminded him strikingly of Santa Claus turn red in the face, eyes sparkling with anger. "How stubborn can one dwarf be? If you won't listen to me, then listen to Kíli."

"Kíli is being irrational, his emotions are clouding his judgement –"

"Of course he is irrational, he's a child, for Durin's sake!"

"He seemed grown up enough to come on this quest, and now he has to face the consequences. I'd have thought he would be stronger."

"Stronger? He's proven that he is more than capable for this. By Mahal, he's not -"

"Don't you dare say it!"

"- not Frerin! He is not Frerin, so don't compare them. It's not fair on him."

"Life is simply not fair, Balin! You know that."

"Aye, I do. And Kíli will find that out soon enough. But right now he's just scared of losing his brother, and he's got every right to be, too. And don't tell me you aren't scared as well. Fíli is your responsibility, not Gandalf's. Your responsibility – as his king _and_ as his uncle."

Thorin paled visibly at his friend's words, but his eyes kept their steady, determined gaze.

"I will find a way. But the elves will have no part in this."

"If you don't come up with a plan soon enough, I will carry the lad all the way to Thranduil's throne room by myself. And I'm sure I wouldn't be going alone."

"You wouldn't dare!" bellowed Thorin, making every dwarf turn their heads in his direction. Dwalin put a hand onto the black-haired dwarf's arm when the latter took a step towards Balin. His eyes shone with fury, but the white-bearded dwarf didn't retreat. He looked straight at his companion, his eyes darting to Fíli and Kíli for a split second before they were set on Thorin again.

"Watch me."

He turned on the spot before Thorin could answer, and without thinking Dean followed him.

* * *

**Review, anyone? ;)**

**I really, really hope for some kind of confrontation in TABA, either Balin vs. Thorin or Fíli vs. Thorin. Balin won't appreciate Thorin's behavior regarding the treasure, and I think Fíli and Thorin will still have to talk about how Thorin ordered Kíli to stay behind in Lake-town.**

**The two Khuzdul sayings are taken from dwarrowscholar, and also from some Hobbit Behind the Scenes.**

**And yes, I know the "There are things worth dying for" is from Harry Potter. I couldn't resist because I loved that scene in the book - and it shows the conflict of emotions in such situations. I'm sure when Kíli and Fíli set out on the quest, they would have said they'd give anything for reclaiming Erebor. But when faced with the ultimate sacrifice they might rethink that and come to the conclusion that, usually, there isn't much that's actually worth dying for. They might gladly give their lives for one another, and also for their uncle, but not for a lost home they never knew. That having said, I know the last movie will be disastrous...  
**


	6. Of family and friends

I'm really glad you like this story so far. When I started this experiment, I honestly didn't think many people would read it. Now it's time for a somewhat more light-hearted chapter and some thoughts about Sam.

* * *

**6: Of family and friends**

Sam was watching Dean and the dwarves as they went away. He felt kind of uneasy thinking of what questions Thorin might ask, and what Dean would say in return. Dean might have become more sensible during the years, but he still had the tendency to talk too rashly and get himself into trouble. And Sam had the distinct notion that getting on the wrong side of Thorin might complicate matters significantly, to say the least.

"What's your name?"

Sam startled when his thoughts were interrupted by the weak, but surprisingly curious voice of Fíli. Only then he realised that the dwarf had been unconscious when Sam had introduced himself. He wondered how much Fíli actually knew about him and Dean by now. The hunter smiled as he sat down next to the two dwarf brothers.

"My name is Sam. And the one who helped pinning you down is my big brother, Dean." He almost choked on his next words. "You saved his life. Words cannot tell how grateful I am for that."

His brain was finally processing the last events that had led up to him sitting beside an injured dwarf on the floor of an enchanted forest, and it almost took his breath away thinking of what a close call the encounter with the orcs had been. He might have lost his brother here in this fantasy world. Sam felt his chest burning at the thought. He knew that Dean blamed him for not searching for him when he was in Purgatory, but what Dean didn't know – or refused to understand – was that it had taken all of Sam's willpower to _not_ try to get his brother back. Not this time. Because they had both learned from the past, and when Sam didn't search for his lost brother, it hadn't been lack of love that made him depart from life as a hunter. It had been an excess of love, which he knew would inevitably have made him do something utterly stupid. He had, after all, grown up with the perfect example of acting irrationally when family was at stake.

"Sam? Are you alright?"

"What? Oh yes, sorry, I am."

"And it's not you who should ask the question," scolded Kíli, giving his brother a scrutinising look. "How do _you_ feel?"

Fíli hesitated for the briefest of moments, but Sam noticed it anyway.

"I'm okay," answered the blonde, and it sounded almost truthful. Almost. But growing up among hunters you learned to read the nearly invisible signs of pain, those that elder ones would always try to hide from the younger. It was a skill you developed through the years, and Sam had learned from the best. He could look through Fíli's forced grin, and he suspected that Kíli could not be deceived, either. But the younger brother smiled nonetheless, and squeezed the injured dwarf's shoulder. Fíli might have lied, but Sam knew that he had done it to protect Kíli from losing what little hope he had. Because sometimes words were the only thing left to hold on to.

"Tell me about you, Sam," said Fíli, and his blue eyes focused on the young man sitting beside him. Kíli nodded fervently, curiosity written all over his young face.

"Yes, tell us about you! We haven't met many men yet. Well, we've met a few, but we never really talked much. I always thought they were very different from us, but now I'm not so sure."

"Well, I guess we look different on the outside, but I think we're not so different at heart."

"May I write that down?" Sam hadn't noticed Ori approaching, but he smiled when the young dwarf pointed to a thick, leather-bound book. "I'm trying to gather as much information as I can while we're on this journey," explained Ori, "so that maybe someday I can put it into a real book."

"All he ever does is write and sketch," joked Kíli. "If you don't watch out, you might end up somewhere in there, too, Sam."

The dwarves chuckled, and Sam tried his best to sound just as cheerful. After all, the day hadn't been funny at all so far. But inside, his heart had missed a beat at Kíli's words. Could a story that had already been written be changed? Would he and Dean change the outcome of the dwarves' quest? Vaguely he remembered Balthazar's absurd idea of unsinking the Titanic. This was fiction, though, so maybe it didn't even matter? No real lives were at stake – but then again, those dwarves seemed pretty real to Sam in that moment. Real laughter, real tears, and very real blood. He took a deep breath, trying to not think further about it.

"Dean and I grew up with our father," he began, "who raised us on his own after our mother died." He felt the familiar lump in his throat that even after all these years reminded him of the fact that he would never know a mother's love. It had taken a lot of time for him to realise that this actually hurt the most. It had taken even longer for him to stop envying Dean for those childhood memories of a loving mother.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Kíli, and Sam recalled that the young dwarves had lost their father too early as well. He didn't know his date of death, and it made him wonder how much they remembered of their father.

"He raised us and trained us to... well, to take over the family business eventually. He died before his time," he concluded sadly, feeling strangely comforted by the sympathetic looks the dwarves gave him. He hadn't spoken of his father in years, but here in this strange world he suddenly thought that he'd like to talk about him. "He was always strong for us, even when he couldn't find strength for himself. He tried to protect us as best as he could, and he did well. I never thanked him for that."

Simultaneously Fíli and Kíli glanced at where Thorin was still in discussion with Balin, Dwalin and Dean. It didn't take much for Sam to recognise their love for their uncle. Kíli might still be furious, he might even hate him in that moment, but it didn't take away the love for him. The more you loved someone, the easier you could feel betrayed, deceived, wronged; it was, after all, the strange ambiguity of emotions.

"What happened to him?" asked Ori shyly, and Sam sighed quietly.

"He died to protect us."

It was the truth, after all. Well, he had given his life to save Dean's in the first place, but ultimately Sam's life would have been destroyed if he had lost his brother. His father had saved them both, and Sam wished he could have told him how grateful he was for that.

"Lucky for us, we had great friends to help us along the way," continued Sam, a soft smile tugging at his lips as images of friends, some long gone, flooded his mind. "Our uncle Bobby, for example. He was always the wise one, always knew what to do, and he didn't hesitate to smack our heads if necessary."

Kíli chuckled, muttering something under his breath that sounded a lot like 'Balin'. Fíli remained still, focusing on Sam as if his life depended on it. Maybe it really was a distraction from the pain he was undoubtedly feeling, Sam mused, and if his story telling could make him feel better, Sam would gladly have talked all day.

"Then there's Garth – he's a bit crazy, and usually his bright ideas end up with him needing his ass saved by someone else, but he means well."

"Think you can relate?" teased Fíli, looking meaningfully at his brother. The dark-haired youth stuck out his tongue in a very un-princely manner, making everyone laugh out loud, and for a moment the two looked much younger than they were. The happiness was only short-lived, though. Fíli's laughter turned into dry coughs, and the smile vanished from Kíli's face as he helped his brother sit up.

"Easy, brother. Just breathe through it," he mumbled, laying his hand onto Fíli's back and not taking it back until the blonde dwarf's coughing subsided. He was pale, eyes screwed shut when he laid back down. His breath rattled in his chest, and Ori eyed his friend worriedly.

"Should I get Óin?" he asked, but Fíli shook his head.

"I'll be fine. Just... keep talking, Sam."

And Sam did as he was asked, but he noticed that from that moment on Kíli's gaze was constantly on his brother.

"Well, then there's Kevin. He's really intelligent, but at the same time still very young. He's kind of become like a brother to us."

Sam forced himself to not think about the fact that he hadn't searched for Kevin, either.

"Then there's Charlie, and –"

"Aren't there any women where you live?" inquired Ori, blushing visibly as he had obviously spoken without thinking. "I mean... you know, there aren't many dwarf women, and I thought it was a dwarf problem... you know... I mean..." He stopped, his cheeks getting redder by the second.

"Charlie is actually a girl," replied Sam, suppressing a grin when he realised how uncomfortable the young dwarf felt. "And she's great, too. She's brave and strong – and also beautiful," he added, winking at Ori. "She's tall, with green eyes and red hair, which is quite unusual for our women."

"Redhead, Kee," mumbled Fíli, smiling weakly at his brother. "Y'ought t'meet her." His voice was slurred as he spoke, but his blue eyes were sparkling mischievously at his little brother. "Know y'like redheads."

"I don't!" protested Kíli, blushing almost as much as Ori had, momentarily forgetting the seriousness of the situation.

"Do."

"Don't!"

"Well, I'll tell her about you," said Sam to Kíli, grinning broadly at the dwarf. "Maybe you'll get to know her someday."

Charlie, on the other hand, would already know everything about that young dwarven prince and his brother. She would know about their past, their future, and about their end.

Fíli's eyes were closed again, and he shivered despite the sticky forest air. Gently Kíli wiped the thin layer of sweat from his brother's forehead, biting his lip as the injured dwarf moaned quietly, unable to mask his pain any longer. He exchanged an insecure look with Ori and Sam, then glanced at where Óin was standing with the rest of the group.

"Are you sure you don't want Óin to have a look at you?" he asked his brother worriedly, and Sam wondered how long it would take for the young dwarf to ignore his brother's stubborn refusal.

"Just cold, tis all," he whispered. "Tired."

Kíli didn't respond, but silently took off his coat and laid it out like a blanket over his brother.

"Ambr, nadaduh. You'll be better when you wake up."

_It'll all be better when you wake up. I promise._

* * *

**_Ambr, nadaduh._ = Sleep, my brother.**

**Sorry, I couldn't resist the Kiliel allusion. I ship them, although I do realise that they don't really have a chance, seeing how the Hobbit will end... still, the fact that Charlie is a Hobbit nerd and a redhead was too good to not use.**

**What do you think about Sam here? I find him harder to write than Dean, most of all because I don't get him as easily as I get Dean. So I'm not sure if I got him right in this one, please let me know what you think. The "excess of love" part was inspired by the beautiful (yet sad) poem by William Butler Yeats, "Easter 1916":**

_**We know their dream; enough**_

_**To know they dreamed and are dead;  
**_

_**And what if excess of love**_

_**Bewildered them till they died?**_


	7. To be a brother

Time for Balin to share his wisdom with Dean - older brother to older brother. And also time for a brotherly moment between Sam and Dean.

Dedicated to my not-so-little-anymore sister who will be 26 on Monday :)

* * *

**7: To be a brother**

Balin was walking surprisingly fast towards the rest of the group of dwarves, and Dean jogged after him. The heated argument between the white-bearded dwarf and his leader was still freshly engraved in Dean's mind, and it had left him confused and worried.

"Balin, wait!" he called. But the dwarf simply walked on. "Balin, who's Frerin?"

He knew he had hit a soft spot when the dwarf stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. His kind face was suddenly shadowed with grief, and his eyes held a darker shade than before. He wondered if maybe he had asked something wrong, but Balin simply sighed and glanced over at Thorin.

"Frerin was Thorin's brother."

"_Was_?" echoed Dean flatly, watching the proud dwarf from the distance.

"Yes. He died quite young. I think that Thorin never really got over it. We were all quite shocked, but naturally Thorin took it the hardest."

"How did he –"

But Balin shook his head dismissively, and Dean knew that he wouldn't talk about it.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he mumbled, feeling like he was treading on private ground. But still... "If he knows what it's like to lose a brother, why won't he do anything to help Fíli? Make sure Kíli doesn't lose him just like he lost him?"

"He's torn, my lad. Torn between the love for his family and the mission he needs to fulfil," replied Balin somewhat mysteriously, and Dean eyed him curiously.

"What mission?"

Again Balin wouldn't answer immediately, but hesitated for a moment.

"No, I can't tell you that, either. But just know that deep inside Thorin knows where his priorities lie. He's the most loyal dwarf I know, and family comes first. It's only this mission that makes him forget it sometimes – and it's usually me who reminds him again of what really matters," he added with a wink.

_Killing this demon comes first. Before me, before everything! – No, Sir. Not before everything._

Dean nodded understandingly. He might be in a strange, unknown world, but there were some things he could relate to nonetheless. Balin stared over at where Fíli was lying on the ground, with Sam, Kíli and Ori sitting next to him talking in muffled voices, and Dean followed his gaze.

"Balin – how old are they?" he asked spontaneously. The two dwarf brothers seemed incredibly young compared to Balin.

"Well, Fíli is 82, and Kíli... 77, unless I'm not mistaken." He must have noticed Dean's confusion, and he smiled. "Remember that us dwarves live much longer than humans. Kíli has just come of age."

"They seem to be very close," said Dean, inwardly slapping himself for stating the obvious. Of course they were close, they were brothers. He and Sam had been just like them before – well, before it all fell apart.

"They lost their father when Fíli was still very young, and Kíli just born," said Balin, a hint of sadness in his voice. "I think that made them hold on to each other even more. They have each other's backs, no matter what. But you know that feeling, right?" he asked, with a kind twinkle in his eyes. Dean felt as if the wise dwarf could see right through him.

"I used to know that feeling," he said quietly, "but lately something's changed. We're not like we used to be, Sam and I."

Balin looked at Dean intently.

"But you're still brothers. And that's what matters. I know it's tough for you, because you've probably been looking out for your little brother all your life. And now that things have changed, you don't know how to deal with it. It's always the older brothers who feel the weight of responsibility the most, don't you agree?"

"How do you know that?"

"You've seen that tall, grim-looking dwarf over there, right? The one who looks like he will murder the next squirrel that so much as coughs in the bushes? That's Dwalin - my little brother."

"You're kidding!" Dean cried out in surprise. The tattooed dwarf was the last one he would have assumed to be Balin's brother. Well, now that he though of it, their names sounded quite similar. But they didn't look at all alike, and Dean found it hard to believe that the wise, good-natured dwarf in front of him should be so much as related to the fierce, grim warrior who was currently debating with Thorin. Balin smiled and shook his head. His white beard flapped as he looked over to his brother for a second, then focused on Dean again.

"He is my brother, and I would do anything for him. Ever since he was born I looked out for him, and I was certain that it would always remain this way. It saddened me to realise that in fact my brother and I were not as much alike as I had thought. We are different, very different. I understood that quite soon. But it took me a while to figure out that this isn't necessarily a bad thing. Our differences may make us drift apart sometimes, but that doesn't really matter if we still can reach out to one another when we are in need."

He sighed and let his gaze wander to where Kíli, Ori and Sam were still sitting next to the unmoving form of Fíli. Dean could see that they were talking, and he wondered what they had to tell each other.

"Fíli will eventually have to realise that he cannot always protect his brother," continued Balin. "He will have to let him find his own place in this world, painful as it may be. Sometimes we just have to let them go and lead their own lives before they can come back to us. At times being an older brother may seem like a burden. But it's also a prerogative."

Dean appreciated Balin's silence that followed his long monologue. He needed to let the words sink in and reflect on them for a while. Being a big brother to Sam had often been difficult, had left him in despair and anger and pain, but now he realised that he wouldn't trade any of these feelings for all gold on earth. For they showed that he still cared, and that was, after all, what really mattered. He still cared about Sam, painful as it might be sometimes, and maybe deep down Sam cared about him just as much. He needed to believe that, and he wished it wasn't so damn difficult these days.

But he still had Sam. They still had each other, and Dean's heart ached at the thought of the two young dwarves who might lose one another before the night was over.

"We need to save Fíli," he heard himself say, and Balin raised his bushy eyebrows at him.

"_We_?" he echoed, surprise clearly audible in his voice. "Why do you care so much about him?"

He seemed genuinely interested, and Dean shifted uncomfortably. It would be easy to say that the blonde dwarf had saved his life, but in truth there was more to it. He had been through a lot in his life, but the one memory stood out from all the rest. The memory of losing Sam, the emptiness inside, the despair that crawled underneath his skin and flowed in his veins until he knew he would rather die than live with this hole inside for the rest of his life.

_Heaven forbid Kíli will have to go through this._

But he couldn't tell anyone about his, not even Balin. So he simply shrugged.

"I just do."

Miraculously, the old dwarf seemed to be content with that, and he nodded as he continued his way towards his young friends.

* * *

Sam was watching Kíli as he laid his hand onto his brother's forehead. The blonde moaned quietly at the touch, but remained asleep. His breathing was shallow, and from time to time his body was wracked with shivers that even the make-shift blanket couldn't prevent. Ori was eyeing his friend worriedly, his eyes darting from Kíli to Fíli and back all the time. He didn't speak, though, and he was fiddling nervously with his leather-bound book.

Óin had come and gone, stating that there wasn't anything he could do as long as Fíli's condition didn't change. Sam forbade himself to think of the possibility that if anything changed, it might be a change for the worst.

The young hunter looked up when he heard footsteps approach, and he was relieved to find Dean walking next to Balin, apparently having given Thorin the right answers after all. He gave him a scrutinising look, but Dean only nodded briefly before he set his eyes on Fíli.

"How is he, laddie?" asked Balin as he knelt down at Fíli's side. Kíli shook his head.

"I don't know, Balin. One minute he seems alright, and the next second he starts to shiver and cough and I think he's in pain, but he won't say it aloud, so how can I know?" He exhaled audibly, his brown eyes shining with anxiety when he looked pleadingly at the older one. "Óin said he can't do anything, but we have to do something, Balin! Please tell me Thorin has changed his mind!"

"I'm sorry, lad, but he is stubborn." Kíli looked at him aghast, and Balin laid a hand onto his shoulder. "He will change his mind soon, I'm sure of it."

"But it might not be soon enough!"

"Aye, that's what I fear, too. I'll have to discuss this with Óin." He put his hand onto Fíli's chest before he got to his feet. "Your brother is strong, Kíli. He will not be so easily broken. And your uncle will not forsake his family as easily, either."

With that he left, and Ori followed, and Kíli stared after them for a few seconds before he focused on his brother again.

"Don't worry, brother. I'll find a way to save you," he whispered almost inaudibly, for a moment seemingly in his own world with just his brother, and it was only then that Dean looked down at Sam.

He didn't need to speak. The worry in his green eyes told Sam everything Dean wanted to know, but he was afraid that he couldn't give him the answer he desired.

Fíli hadn't improved, and despite the fact that there were only minor changes in his condition, they couldn't be denied, either. Tremors ran through his body more frequently than before, and while his cheeks were flushed with fever his lips were pale and pressed to a thin line even in sleep. He was hurting, and Sam was starting to fear that he might not wake up from his restless sleep.

But when he saw his brother's guilt-stricken face as he stared at the young dwarves, he realised that he mustn't tell him any of this.

Kíli looked up at the two men, his hand still resting on Fíli's chest as if he was scared that his heart might stop beating if he broke the connection. Sam knew that feeling too well, and he knew of the comfort a steady heartbeat could give to the one sitting at the bedside. He had been there twice, he had witnessed Dean being kept alive by the miracles of technology and medicine, and he would never forget how helpless he had felt. Here, in the middle of this forsaken forest, with nothing at hand but a few herbs and encouraging words, Kíli must feel buried alive in a nightmare.

"What am I supposed to do?" the raven-haired dwarf asked quietly, and he could as well have spoken to himself, so distant was his voice as he spoke. His dark eyes were set on the top of the trees, as if rescue might come from somewhere beyond this place. "Mahal, what am I supposed to do?"

Dean shifted, and Sam saw how his brother narrowed his eyes at the dwarf's words, the green orbs flickering as if the words brought up a long lost memory. The older brother sat down at Fíli's side, opposite Kíli, and when he spoke his voice held a kind of determination that Sam hadn't heard from him in a long time.

"We'll help you save your brother. If there's anything we can do, we'll do it."

Kíli smiled weakly at the hunter.

"Thank you. If only my uncle wasn't so damn stubborn. But he's a Durin. Fíli's just the same," he added, watching his brother for a moment.

"Well, from my experience stubbornness can be useful when you fight Death," remarked Dean, his eyes not meeting Sam's as he spoke. "He won't give up just like that. Not as long as there's something – or someone – that keeps him here."

"He's a fighter," said Kíli, a hint of pride in his voice. "But seeing him like this... it's not right." He choked visibly when Fíli groaned quietly in his fevered sleep. "He's always the strong one. He's looked out for me all my life, and never let me down, and now that he needs me I don't know if I –"

His voice broke and he hushed, quickly turning his face away from the brothers. He wiped his eyes hastily, and Sam pretended he hadn't noticed. The youth's words echoed in his mind, each word conjuring memories of that fateful night all those years ago.

_You've saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change._

But he'd failed, and he'd watched his brother being torn to shreds in front of his eyes, and had his own heart ripped apart in the process.

"I need him," whispered Kíli raspily, "and I will not let him down. I don't care if I have to spend the rest of my life in some Elvish dungeon, and never see my home again, if only I have him. My uncle thinks it's selfish, and maybe it is, but is that so wrong?"

"No," answered Sam, just as Dean said, "It isn't."

He stared at his brother, and finally Dean didn't look away. Sam's brown eyes found the green in a moment of mutual understanding when suddenly things were said wordlessly that had been unsaid for too long. They still had each other. After everything that had happened, after loss and pain and betrayal and fear, they still had each other.

For a moment all Sam could hear was the rustling of trees and Kíli murmuring soothing words in his strange language into his brother's ears. He didn't notice his eyes burning until he saw Dean's eyes glistening as they were set on the two dwarf brothers before him.

* * *

**Being selfish isn't always wrong. I wish Sam had remembered that in season 9. The moment he told Dean he wouldn't have done what he did, i.e., doing absolutely everything to save his brother, made me cry a little. The mment he accused him of being selfish broke my heart.** **(And still I somehow understand Sam's motive there, it's just the way he said it was so... bam-in-your-face!)**

**What do you think of this chapter? I think it's my favourite so far, but that's probably because I'd written part of it weeks ago and couldn't wait to finally share it.**


	8. Blood of my blood

**OMG OMG guys read this and be jealous: I'm going to HobbitCon on Sunday! Totally spontaneous thing, someone had a ticket to spare and now I'm going ahhhhh! Dean will be there and Adam and oh I hope I'll get to attend the Khuzdul workshop, that would be so brilliant!**

**Okay fangirl-moment over (for now).**

**Time for some action, and for Thorin to somehow redeem himself a little bit.**

* * *

**8: Blood of my blood**

Minutes passed in which no sound could be heard in the forest. Fíli was lying quietly with Kíli sitting beside him if he could heal him just by staring. The blonde hadn't moved, and Dean wondered if it was a good sign or a bad. He wished to believe that it was an indication of improvement, but deep down he knew that he ought to listen to his instincts as a hunter. Fíli wasn't getting better, and he asked himself how long the dwarves intended to wait. He looked up when he heard footsteps. It was the dwarf with the weird hat, and he smiled kindly at Kíli as he bent down before him and Fíli.

"How is he, laddie?"

"He's asleep, Bofur. He'll be fine," responded Kíli courtly, but the look in his dark eyes betrayed his confident words. "He'll be fine," he repeated, a nuance quieter, as if he was talking to himself rather than to his friend.

"I'm sure he will be," replied Bofur. The encouraging smile didn't reach his eyes. "Just know that whatever you decide to do, I'll have your back."

Kíli's head shot up at these words, surprise written all over his pale face. For a split second his gaze went to where Thorin was standing with Balin, Dwalin and Óin, then he looked back at Bofur. He nodded slowly as Bofur laid his hand onto his shoulder.

"That's kind of you, Bofur." He took a deep breath. "But if I bring Fíli to Thranduil, it'll be just me. I will not have you take the risk of imprisonment."

"Don't be silly, lad, you can't carry him all on your own."

"But Thorin –"

"Thorin will see sense eventually, but maybe not soon enough."

"And we see it as our duty to keep the future king of Erebor safe," added another, even smaller person who had suddenly appeared behind Bofur. Dean recognised him as the one who had stood up to Thorin, a small person with curly hair and – Dean had to look twice – bare feet. He didn't look like a dwarf, and Dean nudged Sam in the side and looked at him questioningly. The small man must have seen it, because he stepped forward and shook Dean's hand.

"Bilbo Baggins, at your service," he said, "a hobbit from the Shire," he added, as if he was used to people giving him weird looks.

"Dean, and my brother Sam," replied the hunter, startled by the hobbit's behaviour. He was so small and looked rather timid, yet he had had the courage to stand up to the dwarven leader.

"Bofur, Bilbo, I appreciate your support, I really do," intervened Kíli, "but I will do this on my own. If my uncle's mad at me, that's one thing, but I cannot ask you to take that on yourselves."

He spoke with surprisingly mature determination, and Dean couldn't help but respect the young dwarf for the way he stood his ground. But Bofur shook his head.

"You get no say in this, my lad, we're coming with you no matter what."

"For Durin's sake, Bofur –"

But Kíli was interrupted by a sudden yell.

"Watch out! Watch out!"

It was Dwalin, and even as he cried out Dean saw him wield his axe at – Dean's heart skipped a beat as he saw what came out from among the trees.

"Spiders!" cried Bilbo, and Kíli leapt to his feet, bow in hand, standing protectively in front of his brother.

Dean thought that 'spiders' was the understatement of the century. Those weren't spiders, but monsters. The size of horses, with long, hairy legs and milky eyes they crawled at enormous speed towards the small group, and instinctively Dean took hold of his silver knife.

"Aim for their eyes!" yelled Sam, and Dean gave him an incredulous look. Those beasts wouldn't get that near if it was up to him. The first of the spiders was before them within split seconds, and tunnel vision set in immediately as more followed after the first, and Dean whirled his dagger in all directions, escaped a deadly fang by inches and stabbed one hairy beast in the belly.

The creature's shriek sent shivers down his spine, but he didn't stop. He allowed himself to glance briefly at Kíli, who was flinging arrow after arrow at every spider that tried to get between him and his brother. Fíli had woken and sat upright, holding one of his swords in his uninjured hand. His eyes were set on Kíli, and Dean thought that fear for his little brother was probably the only thing keeping the older one conscious. He knew the feeling when adrenaline took over in situations like these, and he could only hope that the assault would be over before the kick wore off, and before the archer ran out of arrows.

"Dean!"

He turned around at Sam's screaming his name, and not a moment too soon. The sharp sting of the spider hit the ground instead, and the beast screeched in disappointment and aimed again. But this time Dean was prepared, jumping left and right to escape the deadly weapon. All of a sudden the beast collapsed, and behind it there was Bilbo, staring at his short sword as if he could not believe what he had done.

There was no time to thank him for it, though, because still more spiders were there. One was approaching Bofur who way lying face down on the ground, and just as Dean made to sprit forwards, the fat dwarf he had seen earlier launched himself at the spider with unexpected high speed.

"That's my brother, you filth!" he yelled before he bumped into the spider's massive body. The creature lost its momentum, and before it could regain balance the dwarf slammed his axe into the hairy body.

"Kíli!" he heard someone yell, and again Dean whirled around, only to find the black-haired dwarf on the ground, crawling away from a spider in front of him, sword held out defensively, his bow lying on the ground. Somehow Fíli had managed to get to his feet, and he was wielding his broad sword just like he had done against the wargs. But even from the distance his face was a mask of pain, and Dean's stomach lurched when his eyes fell onto the blood dropping slowly from his stomach onto the forest floor. The blonde must have pulled his stitches, and in a moment of clarity Dean realised that the young dwarf who was now standing swaying before his brother didn't stand a chance.

He ran forward without thinking, just as the injured dwarf swung his sword at the spider, cutting off one of its legs with a swift movement. The creature hissed and shrieked and attacked for real this time, moving speedily towards Fíli who stumbled backwards as the beast slammed into him.

Fíli's pained scream mingled with the spider's shrill shrieking, making Dean's blood run cold. For a moment everything seemed to slow down, the fighting dwarves, the spiders, even the rustling of the trees. All he could see were the two brothers on the ground, the raven-haired youth next to the blonde prince, and the spider looming above them, blood pouring from the stump where its leg used to be, ready to strike.

"Nooooo!" A battle cry shook Dean from his state of shock, and he stared wide-eyed at the black-haired dwarven leader as he darted past him, his sword glinting even in the dim-lit forest, his blue eyes fiery and wild when he put himself in front of the spider. It was with a kind of morbid fascination that Dean watched Thorin, everything else momentarily forgotten as the majority of the attackers laid dead on the ground, only focusing on the dwarven king and his opponent.

"Not my kin, you piece of scum!" he cried, and he leapt forward and stuck his blade deeply into the beast's body. It shrieked one last time, shuddered and writhed, and then it moved no more. Thorin pulled his sword out and looked at the creature for a moment with disgust. "No more Durin blood will be spilled tonight, you bastard," he spoke loudly, before he turned around.

Dean watched the king paling and dropping to his knees at his nephew's side, he heard his choked cry, registered Kíli's desperate scream as the young dwarf got to his feet and stumbled over to his brother and his uncle. He smelled the stench of blood and rotting dead bodies and felt himself shaking as he still held his dagger tightly in his hand.

But all he really saw was the brightly red blood that ran down the corner of the blonde youth's mouth as he struggled to breathe in between strangled coughs.

* * *

**A/N: Just thought I'd let you know that I wrote this chapter before last Sunday's Game of Thrones episode had been aired. Didn't steal anything from GRRM/ HBO ;)**


	9. When all falls apart

Hey everyone, sorry for the late update. Real life was getting in the way very much, and now I'm posting the new chapter without having written the next one yet. Hopefully I'll find the time tonight. But I have a good excuse because I was at... HobbitCon yesterday! :) It was absolutely fantastic, the actors were the nicest and funniest guys ever, and the costumes, oh my god the costumes! It was my first Con and it was only a day, but I'm hooked and can't wait to go again next year!

So here's the new chapter, prepare for Fíli-angst and please read the A/N ;)

* * *

**9: When all falls apart**

Sweat was running down Sam's forehead when he had finished off the last spider that tried to kill him. He was panting heavily, for a moment just staring at the enormous, dead creature on the ground. When he'd been a little boy, he'd read adventure stories and imagined himself to be part of them. He'd slain beasts and discovered wild lands, and he'd wished to find himself in one of his fantasy worlds someday. And now he was here, but his dreams of young had turned into a very real nightmare, just like the monsters under his bed had come to life eventually.

He scanned the area searching for Dean. He could see Ori, the young dwarf shaken, but seemingly unhurt while Dori was fussing over him, not caring about the blood running down his thigh. Bilbo, the hobbit, was staring at his bloodied sword as if he could not believe what had happened. Spots of dried blood were covering Dwalin's stony face as he stood with his back to a pile of dead spiders. He stared straight ahead, and when Sam followed his gaze his heart dropped.

Fíli was lying on his back, coughing and wheezing when Thorin and Kíli dropped to their knees at his side, and as Sam slowly approached the small group he had a clear view on the scarily scarlet blood running down Fíli's chin. Dean was standing a few feet away, apparently unable to move.

Óin, the healer, rushed past Sam, almost knocking Balin over who stood in his way.

"Turn him on his side!" he commanded, "He's choking!"

Thorin did as he was told, putting a firm hand onto his nephew's shoulder as he turned him, but Sam could see his own shoulder shaking as he did so. His blue eyes were wide with fear as he looked up at the healer.

"Óin, for Mahal's sake, do something!"

"I can't do anything if I don't know what poison it is. I cannot risk giving him something that might interact negatively with the poison in his blood, it might kill him!"

"He's already dying!"

Thorin's eyes widened at Bofur's words, and the kind dwarf clasped his hands over his mouth as if he could make the words unsaid. A choked cry escaped Kíli's mouth, and to Sam's horror the proud king's blue eyes became suddenly suspiciously shiny. For a moment the only sound to be heard was Fíli's gurgling coughs as he tried to fill his lungs with the air he so desperately needed.

"Breathe, Fíli," repeated Kíli over and over again, one hand on his brother's back, the other on his blonde hair, "Breathe in, breathe in."

"Can't breathe," choked Fíli, and for the first time since the orcs' attack Sam could see what he hadn't seen in him before: Fear. He was scared to death, and Kíli knew it.

"You have to!" he urged him, "Come on, Fee, don't give up now!"

But with every small, painful breath Fíli took, only more blood seemed to seep out of the dwarf's mouth, and his face was white as he grabbed his brother's arm. The scene was painfully familiar to Sam, conjuring one of the many memories he'd rather not see again. Watching Dean spitting blood onto the floor was a sight Sam would never forget, and here in Middle-Earth there would be no Ruby to the rescue. No witchcraft would save Fíli as it has saved Dean, not unless Gandalf returned and not too late.

"I'm drowning, Kee," wheezed Fíli, "I... I can't... Kee I don't think I'll –"

"Don't you dare!" cried Kíli, shaking his brother with tears in his eyes, "Don't you dare!"

Fíli didn't respond, and blood dropped onto the forest ground and sunk into the earth, draining him of life as it drained Sam of hope.

"No, no, no! Don't leave me, please!"

Kíli was weeping openly now, cradling his brother in his arms as he spoke quietly to him.

"Ma imrid. Ma imrid. Tarukhi menu, nadad!"

He looked pleadingly at Thorin and Óin, silently begging the older ones for help when Sam knew that they couldn't do anything. Thorin looked at his nephews with vacant eyes, his whole posture suddenly smaller and frailer than Sam would have thought possible. He wasn't looking at a king in that moment. He was seeing someone losing the most important person in his life without a chance to prevent it. Sam had been there, and he knew the iron grip that would grab your heart, the pain emerging in your chest unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and the feeling of despair and self-loathing when you asked yourself if you could, somehow, have taken another path and changed fate.

Suddenly Kíli got up from his position next to his brother. Tear streaks were standing out as silvery lines on his weary face when he put his arms under Fíli's limp body. The blonde didn't stir when Kíli moved him, only the expression on his face proving the distress the sudden movement caused him.

"What are you doing?" asked Óin sharply.

"Seeking help," replied Kíli, with a slight quiver in his young voice. "I'll find someone, anyone... the elves must be here somewhere, and they'll help."

"Kíli, this is insane!" cried Ori. "You cannot go there alone! And what if they refuse to help?"

"They won't. I'll make sure of that," answered the black-haired dwarf, his voice suddenly unusually cold. Bofur stepped forward, avoiding Thorin's gaze as he stood before Kíli.

"I'm right there with you, laddie."

"No, Bofur –"

"Stop it, all of you!"

Kíli froze for a moment, then squared his shoulders.

"I will bring him to the elves, uncle, whatever you say, I don't care."

"Kíli –"

"We should have done that immediately, and now my brother is dying because you wouldn't risk delay!" the youth spat out bitterly. "Don't even try to hold me back!"

He struggled to lift his brother up, and it was evident to Sam that the young dwarf would never be able to carry him for long. Fíli was heavy even without his armour on, and Kíli was worn out and tired. But the fire in Kíli's eyes told him that he would rather go down with his brother than not go at all.

"You will not take him!" yelled Thorin. Balin made a step towards him when Kíli looked at his uncle aghast.

"I told you –"

"_I_ will carry him."

"What about Durin's Day?" asked Dwalin after a moment of stunned silence, which earned his a stern look from his elder brother. Thorin faced the rest of the group, who looked at him questioningly except for Kíli, who was still tending to Fíli.

"We can still make it," said Thorin, his voice almost as confident as his words. "But I cannot let him die. I won't. If any of you think otherwise, feel free to stay or go wherever it pleases you."

Nobody moved or said a word, and Thorin nodded as if he hadn't expected anything else. Quickly the dwarven leader was at his nephew's side, gently taking Fíli from his brother's hold. Kíli stumbled backwards, all energy to protest having left his weary body as he watched his uncle putting his right hand to Fíli's pale cheek. The blonde opened his eyes a little at the touch, and Thorin put his forehead onto Fíli's for a brief moment.

"I'm sorry, Fíli," he whispered, "I'm so sorry. I'll make this right, I promise. Gajut men."

Fíli's blue eyes flickered for a split second, but then clouded with pain and fear again. Sam could see that he wasn't breathing properly, only taking in small amounts of air as if anything else was too much to bear. Even now each rise and fall of his chest, though barely visible, kept the thin bead of blood running steadily down from the corner of his mouth. He was drowning, and breathing in might kill him. Not breathing at all definitely would.

The young dwarf glanced at Kíli, who was standing a few feet away, staring at his brother and uncle, and who suddenly looked much less like the warrior he wanted to be, and more like the child he actually was. For a moment Fíli's eyes were filled with nothing but love as he spoke to his uncle.

"Look out for him."

He said it quietly, his weak voice almost inaudible through the rustling of the trees, but they tore at Sam's heart in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. Four words, but they told of so much more. They spoke of fear and love and lost hope and trust and family.

A single tear was running down Thorin's face, barely visible for anyone who didn't look closely, but Sam saw it and when he turned his head in a foolish attempt to unsee what he had seen, his eyes met Dean's for the first time since the spider's attack. And Sam thought that the only thing worse than witnessing the proud and strong king cry was seeing the tears in his brother's eyes.

"Don't say that, Fíli," murmured Thorin with a strained voice, "Zuznuizu, katafurukhizu Fíli. Mahmazr! Mahmazr, inùdoyul."

Sam didn't know what Thorin had said, but Fíli smiled weakly at his uncle. The dark-haired dwarf took the younger one in a fireman's lift, the movement causing the younger one to press his eyes shut in a pained expression, and followed by Kíli, Thorin walked slowly down the barely visible forest road.

* * *

**_Ma imrid._ = Don't die.** (I'm alsways insecure about the imperative, but there's what Thorin says to Thranduil, "Imrid amrad ursul" which means "Die a death of fire", therefore I conclude tat imrid is indeed the imperative.)

**_Tarukhi menu, nadad._ = I need you, brother.**

**_Gajut men_ = Forgive me.** (Learned that at the Khuzdul workshop :))

_**Zuznuizu, katafurukhizu Fíli.**_** = You are strong, you will survive, Fíli.** (Not so sure about the formation of 2nd person singular)

**_Mahmazr, inùdoyul._ = Fight, my son.** (I know Fíli isn't his son, of course, but first of all I couldn't find the word for nephew and then I thought that it might make this scene even more emotional if Thorin refered to Fíli as his son. After all, he is like a son to him and cares about him just as much as he would care about his own son.)

**A/N:** Remember when that orc in DOS said that Kíli would choke on his own blood? Well, he didn't, but that doesn't mean it can't happen, right? And Fíli's fear when he felt like he was suffocating is actually from my own experience. I suffered from asthma as a child (still do, but not as severely) and one day I had been struggling all day and then on the way home it got worse. Our house was up a kind of steep road and I was standing at the foot of the "hill" and I couldn't breathe. I really thought I was going to die (I was 8 years old, mind you!) and someone ran up to our house and thank God my mum was at home and brought me my inhalor which I had forgotten just that day! I was really scared then, and I imagined Fíli to go through the same - plus the minor detail that he's choking on blood and someone's just said that he'll die LOL


	10. We do have choices

I hope there are still a few people reading this? It's time for some help sent from Heaven, I think ;)

* * *

**10: We do have choices**

The rest of the group followed their leader deeper into the forest, and Dean made to march with them, trying in vain to not look at the lifeless form of Fíli hanging limply over Thorin's shoulders. His mind was in a haze as he stepped forwards. This could not be happening. He knew he ought to be used to it by now, for he had witnessed many people die throughout the years, young and old, good and evil, healthy and sick. But only few of them had died in order to protect him. His father, of course, had given his life for his son's, and sometimes that knowledge still haunted the hunter, making him ask himself how he could have ever deserved this sacrifice. He also thought of Jo, and his heart ached when he remembered that first and last kiss and the salty taste of tears as his lips had met hers.

Who was he that he deserved to live, when others had to die for it?

For a brief moment he saw Kíli's face before his eyes, the fear in his dark eyes and the tear streaks on his young face. He was almost still a child, and just the thought that he might have to watch his brother die took Dean's breath away. Deep down he knew that he wouldn't let it come to this.

_What am I supposed to do?_

"Dean?"

He flinched when Sam's voice made him snap out of his dark thoughts. The tall Winchester pulled at his sleeve, and Dean halted.

"What is it?"

"Dean, I know you won't like this, but we should stay here. If there's even the tiniest chance of Cas finding us, it'll be here."

"Damn right I don't like it!" grumbled Dean, following the group of dwarves with his eyes. Balin had noticed their stopping and turned around. He approached the two men and looked at them questioningly.

"Don't be stupid, Dean!" said Sam irritated, running his hand through his hair. "If we go with them –"

"I need to make sure he's alright, Sam!" snapped Dean. He knew the look on Sam's face, and he also knew that he was probably right, but it didn't matter in that moment. All that mattered was the young dwarf's fate, because somehow Dean knew that his fate was entwined not only with his brother's, but with all the dwarves.

"Maybe your brother is right, Sam," spoke Balin. "The spiders might quite well return, for they will want to avenge the deaths of their kin, and there might still be orcs running around for all we know. You might be safer with us. Your guide hasn't shown up yet, and though I don't mean to be disrespectful, chances are he will never do so."

Sam glanced at Dean when Balin referred to Castiel as their guide. The older one just shrugged and raised his eyebrows to make Sam understand that he'd have to play along. It wasn't the first time, after all.

"He will find us," rejected Sam stubbornly, but already Dean could see him being stirred from his resolve.

"Balin!" yelled someone, and the old dwarf looked at the men intently.

"I need to go. And I strongly advise you to follow me."

With that he turned around again, hurrying after his companions. Without a further word to Sam, Dean followed him. He smiled briefly when he heard his brother's footsteps behind him.

Thorin was walking at the front, with Kíli by his side whose hand never left his brother's. The dwarven leader staggered from time to time, and Dean wondered how long it would take for the so-called elves to appear in front of them. There was no sight of any other living beings, and one part of Dean was grateful for that. He'd had his fair share of evil creatures to last for the rest of his life – not that he expected that to happen – and would rather walk the forest road in peace. But he also knew that Fíli didn't stand a chance if they didn't find help soon. Thorin seemed to share this thought.

"Where are you hiding, you beardless folk?" he cried angrily into the woods, which earned him a reproachful look from Bilbo who was trying to keep up with the dwarf. But Thorin didn't see it, and even if he had, Dean doubted that he would have cared. "Show yourselves, you skinny woodland walkers! We need help!"

"No elf will come to our aid if you keep insulting them!" muttered Bilbo, more to himself than to Thorin, but the dwarf stopped dead in his tracks, causing the hobbit to almost stumble into him.

"I stand by my word that I don't trust the elves," growled Thorin, "and they not coming to our help just proves it. They know nothing of honour and loyalty. Isn't that so?" he shouted into the forest. "You just turn your heads when your help is needed, isn't it so?" His voice grew louder, making Dean worry that instead of elves other beings might be drawn towards them. "I know you're out there, so show yourselves! Show yourselves, come on!"

The last words were but a strangled cry as his shouts were met with silence. All that could be heard was the sound of birds and the rustling of the trees, and Dean's heart sank. Everything around him seemed to be drowned out, as if there was nothing in that lonely place but him and Sam and the dwarves. Thorin was standing rigidly as he stared into the black nothingness among the trees, Kíli was grasping his brother's hand so tightly that his knuckles stood out white, and from Fíli's pale lips red blood dropped onto the forest floor.

It was in that moment that the trees seemed to grow louder. It took Dean two seconds to realise that this wasn't the rustling of trees.

"Cas!"

Sam's shout of delight pierced the silence, and hastily Dean turned on the spot. The dwarves stopped, too, and within a split second swords and axes were drawn. Dwalin stood before Thorin, his glinting axe raised above his bald head, and Dori pushed Ori away and stepped in front of him.

All this Dean only saw from the corner of his eyes. He stared at the angel who had literally appeared out of thin air, for a moment not believing what he was seeing. Castiel looked equally surprised for a second, but immediately walked over to him and Dean without taking further notice of the dwarves.

"At last I found you!" he exclaimed, at which Balin bravely stepped forward with narrowed eyes.

"You are their companion? How could you sneak up on us like that?"

"I do not sneak. I searched many worlds until I came here," replied Castiel, ignoring or probably not noticing the confusion on the dwarves' faces. "We need to go now!" he urged Sam and Dean, and grabbed Dean's arm. But the hunter wrestled himself free from his grip.

"No! No, Cas, listen," he stammered as the angel looked at him in disbelief, "we can't leave just now. Someone's injured, and we need to make sure that..." His words caught in his throat when he saw the kind, blue eyes of his friend. Castiel was _there_. The angel was here. "You can help him!" he cried out. He could see Kíli's eyes widening, while several dwarves gasped. Only Thorin remained still.

Castiel looked at Dean wearily.

"I'm not sure if I can, Dean."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Dean sharply. "Just look at him and do the awkward touching thing and all will be fine!"

He pulled him towards Thorin, only to find himself eye to eye with Dwalin's axe.

"This stranger will not go further," he growled threateningly.

"He can help!"

"I don't like the looks of him!"

"He's our –"

"He's a wizard!"

All heads turned into Sam's direction, including Dean's. A wizard? What was he thinking? Dwalin stood with his mouth slightly open, the axe still held above his head; Ori and Dori were staring at Castiel with wide eyes; Kíli looked as if he had just woken from a nightmare to find he was still alive.

"Is that true?" he asked quietly, his tear-rimmed eyes focused on Castiel while he maintained the iron grip on his brother's hand. "Can you save my brother?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Kíli, look at him, does he look like a wizard to you?" barked Dwalin, the surprise on his face having been replaced by his usual stony and sceptical expression.

"I am –"

"I don't care what he looks like!" said Kíli, ignoring Castiel's attempted interruption.

Thorin hadn't said anything until now. He watched the angel sternly, as if he could read his mind. There was something about the dwarven leader that had Dean believe that maybe Thorin could really read people's thoughts. His brightly blue eyes seemed to pierce through everyone he looked at.

"What proof do I have that you are what your friend says you are?" he asked calmly. "How can I trust you?"

"You can't!" shouted Dori.

"Sam and Dean trust him!" retorted Ori, earning himself an approving nod from Kíli and Bofur.

"Now that changes everything, of course," snorted Dwalin, "let's just forget his weird looks and his appearing out of nowhere!"

"Wizards can appear out of thin air!"

"Gandalf can't!"

"But Gandalf's not here!"

"Thorin, knock some sense into him, he's –"

"Silence!"

Castiel's voice roared through the forest, and the effect was immediate. Dean gasped when he looked around. Time seemed to be frozen for everyone but the three men from that far away world. The dwarves were motionless, and the woods had fallen silent.

Sam exhaled audibly, following Castiel with his eyes as the angel walked towards Thorin and Fíli and laid his hand onto the injured dwarf's head.

"Alright, Cas, tell the truth! Can you help him or not?"

"Of course he can!" shouted Dean, "I mean, you can, Cas, right?"

The angel turned around, and when his blue eyes met Dean's the older Winchester felt a pit in his stomach that he knew boded ill. He knew his hopes were shattered even before Castiel shook his head.

"I don't think I can, Dean. I'm sorry."

Disbelievingly Dean stared at his friend, then at the motionless form of Fíli. Blood was frozen in mid-air on its way to the ground, and Fíli's face was grey and contorted with pain. He took in the frail figure of Kíli, the silvery lines on his young face and the despair mirrored in his brown eyes. He saw Thorin's exhaustion and fear in the king's posture.

"No."

He refused to believe what he knew was true. There had to be a way.

"Dean, I'm sorry, but I'm not back to my old self. I thought I would have time to 'recharge my batteries', as you would say, while you're gone. Searching the universe for you has drained me pretty much, and we're lucky if I can summon enough power to bring you both back to your world."

"Then leave me here!"

Dean hadn't intended to say this, hadn't even known the thought existed, but it didn't feel wrong, either. From the expressions on Sam's and Castiel's faces, though, he knew that they didn't approve.

"You've got to be joking!" exclaimed Sam, and Castiel simply shook his head once more.

"I can't leave you here, Dean. I might not make it here a second time."

"Of course you will!" shouted Dean in exasperation, "You're a soldier of Heaven, for God's sake! This boy –" he pointed at Fíli, "saved my life! I need to make it up to him, and this is the only way I can, so don't look at me as if I'm stupid!"

He was panting heavily, standing before his brother and his friend, and somehow he knew that he was being foolish, but he didn't care. He'd made it out of a lost place before, he would make it out again. But Fíli wouldn't make it if he didn't act now.

"Dean –"

"No, Sam. This is my choice. If I can do anything, anything at all, to save him, to make sure than this kid over there doesn't have to lose his brother, I'll do it."

"This isn't just your choice!" yelled Sam furiously. "I will not let you stay here on your own! This isn't just some forest, this is a whole different world! And you know nothing of it!"

"Like that bothered you before!"

He knew he had gone too far. Sam's face fell at his harsh words, and part of Dean regretted them in that very instant. But some part of him enjoyed the hurt on his little brother's face.

Sam had let him down. Sam didn't care. Sam deserved this.

"You know why I did what I did, or rather did not do," said Sam quietly. "I never meant to let you down. But for once in my life I decided to go on and have a future rather than kill myself holding on to the past. Is that so wrong?"

He couldn't answer that. He knew he ought to understand, but he couldn't shake off that bitter feeling of betrayal, the hurt he'd felt when he'd realised that Sam hadn't moved Heaven and Hell in order to find him.

"That was your choice," Dean replied evasively, "and this is mine. I'll save him. Kíli won't watch his brother die!"

Sam opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but remained silent. There was something in his eyes that Dean couldn't quite determine, a shadow of grief or fear that would have gone unnoticed by anyone but the older Winchester.

"What is it, Sammy?" he asked. Sam looked at him in surprise, and Dean remembered that he hadn't used that childhood nickname for a long time.

"Nothing."

Sam was lying, and Dean knew he ought to insist to get to know the truth. But before he could ask further, Castiel stepped forward.

"Those boys are brothers?" he asked puzzled. He creased his forehead as he looked intently at the blonde and the brunette. Dean nodded impatiently.

"Yes, they are, and I don't know what you did to them all, but your whoodoo seems to be wearing off!"

Indeed he could hear noises again, and Dwalin's muscular arm was twitching. Thorin blinked. Fíli coughed quietly.

"I might be able to help him after all," said Castiel, his eyes resting on Kíli as he spoke. "Unless it's not too late."

* * *

**A/N: **

**1) Did I mention I love overly-protective, grumpy Dwalin?**

**2) "We do have choices" is a quote from season 3. "Honestly, I think the world's going to end bloody. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin'." (Dean in 3x12, "Jus in Bello") Kind of fits for our favourite dwarves as well, doesn't it? (not sure if a winking emoticon or a crying emoticon is more appropriate here...)**


	11. How to save a life

So yeah I had planned to go easy on Fíli and Kíli, but then my football team lost, no, _was butchered_ in the Champions League semi finale and since I couldn't possibly wipe that arrogant look off Ronaldo's face I had to let someone else suffer. Sorry.

* * *

**11: How to save a life**

One by one the dwarves started to move again. Thorin was the first to be awake completely, and he blinked a couple of times and stared at the three men in confusion.

"What happened? What have you done?" he added angrily, looking furiously at Castiel. "Was that some sort of magic, you... Fili!"

Fíli was coughing violently, eyes pressed shut, his forehead covered with sweat again. Quickly Thorin laid him down and supported his back as the blonde convulsed in pain.

"Uncle, I... I can't...," wheezed the young dwarf, his wide eyes searching for Thorin's, the blue irises and red blood forming a stark contrast to his ashen face. Dean fell to his knees on Fíli's other side, looking pleadingly at Sam and Castiel.

"Do something, Cas!" he cried, his fear clearly audible to Sam. It broke his heart seeing his brother so scared for a person he barely knew. He might appear cold-hearted sometimes, but in moments like this the walls he had built around him crumbled, and Sam knew how compassionate his brother could be. Seeing him care like that for a stranger gave him an idea of how he must feel when it was someone he loved.

The angel seemed to hesitate for a moment, his eyes darting from Fíli to Kíli, who was still unmoving. The blonde dwarf writhed in his uncle's strong grip, moaning softly as blood dribbled onto the ground. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but no words escaped his lips.

"No, no, Fíli hold on!" shouted Thorin, shaking his nephew when the young one closed his eyes. "Don't let go, Fíli, stay with me!"

"Kee..."

Fíli's words were barely above a whisper as he lifted his head a little, focusing on his little brother while his breath rattled in his almost unmoving chest. Slowly Kíli turned his head, only just coming to, trying to take in his surroundings. For a moment he looked confused, as if he had woken from a deep sleep. Then his eyes fell onto Fíli, and the black-haired dwarf gasped, all colour draining from his face as he dropped to his knees beside his brother.

"Kee, I...," but the rest of the blonde youth's words were drowned out by a choked cry that made Sam's stomach clench. The younger Winchester watched horrified when the blonde grasped his brother's hand, and Thorin and Dean sat helplessly by as Kíli put his hand onto Fíli's head.

"Can't breathe," muttered Fíli, and the fear in his voice was mirrored in his blue eyes when they locked with his brother's own brown orbs. "Hurts… Kee, I'm sorry."

"Shh, Fee, don't you say that. It'll be alright... it'll be alright. You'll be fine." Tears were cascading down Kíli's face, but the young dwarf didn't wipe them away. He kept murmuring soothing words that Sam couldn't understand, and Fíli's wheezing ebbed away and turned into flat, irregular breaths.

"Do something, Cas!" shouted Dean, his green eyes burning themselves into the angel. "For God's sake, do something!"

Seconds passed like eternity before Castiel nodded.

"I'll do what I can."

Sam exhaled the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

"Kíli?" asked Castiel tentatively, bending down when Kíli looked up. "Kíli, I can try to save your brother. But I need your help."

"His help? What do you mean by that?"

So Dwalin was up and awake again, thought Sam, almost grinning a little when he heard the grumpy voice of the grim dwarf.

"What can I do?" asked Kíli quietly, ignoring the warrior as well as his uncle who had gotten to his feet.

"It won't be easy," said Castiel warningly, "and it's a risk for you –"

"Whatever it is, I'll do it!"

"What risk?" barked Thorin, worry for his kin written all over his face.

"What does it matter?" Kíli shot back. "If I can save him, I'll do it, no matter what!"

"What risk?" asked a weak voice, and Kíli flinched. Fíli was staring intently at him for a second, then turned his head in Castiel's direction. "What risk?" he whispered again.

"I need to channel your brother's life force into you," said Castiel softly. "If I do it right, your brother can save you."

"And what if you fail?" asked Fíli raspily, gazing at the angel through pain-clouded eyes. "What if you fail?"

"Fíli –" began Kíli, but hushed when Fíli put his hand onto his arm. Castiel held Fíli's steady gaze, inhaling audibly.

"If something goes wrong, he'll die."

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Sam could see the different kinds of emotions on the dwarves' faces. Thorin's face was rigid and drained of all colour, the sheer possibility of losing his kin rendering him shocked speechless. Dwalin was watching Castiel grimly, obviously not trusting the stranger who openly admitted that he could kill one of his company. A single tear was running slowly down Balin's face and vanished in his white beard as his eyes were set not on Fíli, but on Thorin. Kíli's face held a kind of stubborn determination, his jaw clenched and eyes fixed on his brother, making it clear that he wouldn't let something as insignificant as death stop him from trying to save his brother.

"No."

The single word had been whispered weakly, but Fíli could as well have screamed. There was a finality to it that hurt Sam like a dagger to the heart. Kíli stared at his brother through red, shiny eyes as if he could not believe what he'd said.

"Fee –"

"No, Kee, just no," breathed Fíli quietly, shaking his head a little, not looking his brother in the eyes.

"That's not for you to decide!" shouted Kíli, rage and desperation visibly on his pale face. "Uncle!"

But the dwarven king remained silent, unable to make a decision. Sam couldn't blame him.

"It is _my_ decision," whispered Fíli. "For Durin's sake, Kíli, I can't let you... no..."

The blonde squeezed his eyes shut when a wave of pain shook his body with such force that Sam could see his veins and muscles stand out when he clenched his fists. He threw his head back and his set jaw unhinged in a heart-rending scream. Kíli cried out and grabbed his brother's arm, looking frantically for Castiel when Fíli's eyes rolled back into his head.

"Do it!" he yelled wildly, "Please!"

"Cas!"

Almost unnoticeably the angel nodded. Castiel knelt down next to Fíli, who was lying motionless on the ground, Kíli's hand pressed firmly onto his still chest. The raven-haired dwarf stared at Castiel, and Sam thought that he looked utterly lost as tears were rolling down his pale cheeks and stuck on the stubbles on his chin. It was then that Sam noticed that his own face was wet with tears.

The angel offered an encouraging smile to Kíli before he took the young dwarf's hand in his own.

"Be strong for him," he said, and Kíli nodded weakly. Castiel closed his eyes and pressed his other hand onto Fíli's forehead.

Everything seemed to become a blur, the only clear shapes being those of the angel and the two dwarves, bathed in a strange silvery light that seemed to be emitted from Castiel. Sam heard muffled footsteps behind him and he knew the other dwarves must have awoken as well, but he didn't look around, focusing only on the three figures on the ground. He heard several gasps when Kíli groaned, the veins on his hand irradiating a fiery red that seemed to flow into Castiel. It was like watching blood spilled on the ground, meandering away in different paths from its source. Castiel seemed to glow and Sam blinked against the blinding light. The red lines made their way through the angel's body and didn't stop at Castiel's fingertips that touched Fíli's forehead.

"What in Durin's name...?" muttered Bofur from somewhere behind Sam, and the younger Winchester gasped audibly when streams of red light pulsated through the injured dwarf's battered body. Fíli groaned, struggling weakly, but didn't open his eyes. Castiel muttered incoherent words in a strange language, and Kíli suddenly cried out, making Thorin lunge forward only to be held back by Balin.

"Hold on, Kíli," mumbled Castiel, for a moment eyeing the young dwarf worriedly before he closed his eyes again and continued his strange enchantment.

Fíli shuddered and inhaled sharply, his eyes opening wide for a split second, then his body became limp and moved no more. The silvery glow faded slowly as if sucked away by the trees, and Castiel exhaled as his eyes locked with Sam's. Sam didn't dare to breathe.

"Fíli? Fíli!" yelled Thorin, dropping to his knees next to his nephew. He stared wild-eyed at the angel. "Did it work? Did it _work_?" he repeated threateningly, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Wake up! Kíli, wake up!" someone cried out, and Sam's heart dropped when he saw Ori shaking his friend.

_No. No, no, no._

Slowly Thorin got to his feet. His whole body was shaking visibly, and his face was ashen but for the shining tears that made their way towards his beard. It took Sam a second too long to realise the king reached for his sword.

"You killed them," whispered Thorin hoarsely, the tip of his sword vibrating as he pointed the blade at Castiel.

"I did the best I could," replied the angel with surprising calmness upon him. "I am truly sorry that my best wasn't good enough."

"No!" shouted Dean, jumping forward and putting himself next to the angel. He was looking straight at Thorin, and part of Sam thought that Dean couldn't have looked at Fíli's unmoving form if he wanted to. "Don't hurt him!"

"He killed them!" roared the dwarf, fire sparkling in his eyes as he stepped further towards Dean and Castiel until the tip of the sword touched the angel's neck. For some reason Castiel still didn't back away. "You killed my boys, you –"

"Thorin?"

An airplane crash couldn't have had a more stunning effect on the dwarven leader. His sword fell with a soft thud on the forest ground, and he sunk to his knees to find Fíli looking at him with tired, but undoubtedly bright eyes.

"Fíli..." breathed Thorin raspily, putting a hand onto his nephew's chest. "How do you feel?"

"I feel alright," answered the blonde, and Sam knew that his uncle read his face for any signs of a lie, but none. "I think I –"

"Fíli!"

Sam was almost knocked over by the young dwarf that flew by and flung himself at Fíli. A chuckle escaped his lips, and for a second Sam's eyes met Dean's. The older Winchester was smiling with tears in his green eyes, and Sam laughed shakily.

"Fee, you're alright... you're alright, aren't you? Oh Mahal, I thought you'd... you'd...," stammered Kíli, his hands running over his brother's body as if he feared he's dissolve into nothingness. "But you made it, nadad, Aulë be blessed!"

"Maybe not so much Aulë but this man," said Fíli thoughtfully as he watched Castiel. The angel had gotten to his feet and put his hand onto Thorin's shoulder.

"Look out for these two. They have yet a role to play."

Sam hoped that no one saw him flinching at the angel's words.

"Thank you," replied Thorin, "for my nephews."

Fíli pushed himself up, attempting to stand up on his own. Kíli reached out his hand, but the older brother shook his head dismissively, and grinned broadly when he stood on his still a little unsteady feet.

"As good as knew," he smiled, then turned towards Castiel. "I guess I owe you my life. Thank you."

"You should thank your brother."

"Yes, about that... what kind of magic was that?" asked Balin curiously.

Castiel hesitated for a moment before he looked at Fíli.

"I've once been told that love is indeed the greatest of all magic. It holds powers beyond our mortal understanding, being older than mankind itself, and the love your brother feels for you is strong enough to defend dark magic such as the wound that was about to kill you. To have such a connection is a rare thing, even for brothers, and in my life I've only met few who had it. One pair is standing right next to me," he added with a wink, and Dean's gaze met Sam's for a second. "Still, it's a complicated bit of magic, and I'm simply glad it worked out the way it did."

"How often have you done this before?" asked Dwalin with narrowed eyes. Castiel shrugged.

"There's a first time for everything, isn't it?"

For the first time since Sam had met him, Dwalin was speechless. The corner of Fíli's lips twitched, and Kíli laughed out loud. Sam thought that it was the best sound he'd heard all day.

* * *

**A/N 1: The "love is the strongest magic of all" sounds pretty cheesy, doesn't it? But it popped into my head suddenly when I had only just started with this fic, probably inspired by Dumbledore in the Harry Potter series, **

**_"If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves it own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign . . . to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin."_ (HP and the Philosopher's Stone)  
**

**A/N 2: I guess one more chapter to go, or two if I split it into a short chapter and an epilogue. Anyone still reading this? If so, reviews make my day! ;)**


	12. The stories we write

Oh wow. When I started this, I never would have dreamed of it to get this long. What can I say, I really, really enjoyed writing this. Part of this chapter was actually written at the very beginning and never changed, so I'm curious to find out what you think of it. Thanks to all who fav'ed, followed and - most importantly - reviewed this.

* * *

**12: The stories we write**

Castiel's powers never seized to amaze Dean. He kept glancing at Fíli, not quite believing that the young dwarf who was now demonstrating his sword skills to Thorin and Dwalin to prove that he was indeed perfectly alright was the same dwarf that had been dying just minutes earlier. Even the bleeding had stopped, the wound having closed neatly, and Óin, the healer, had removed the bandages. The blonde warrior looked like his old self, and grinned broadly when Thorin nodded approvingly at his demonstration.

Kíli was watching his brother's every move, and Dean knew that the younger one was still worried. He had a very Sam-like expression on his face which the hunter knew too well. Just one small sign that Fíli was in pain, and Kíli would intervene. Even now the dark-haired dwarf was pale, the past events obviously still troubling his mind. Dean couldn't blame him. The dwarf was so young, and yet he had already gone through the most horrible nightmares imaginable.

"Dean?"

He flinched when Castiel touched his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Dean, we really ought to go. The longer we stay here, the more difficult it'll be to get back."

Of course Castiel was right. But Dean couldn't help but be reluctant about leaving. He couldn't quite describe the feeling in his gut that told him that things had worked out too well to be true. The angel seemed to sense his hesitation.

"I know you'd like to stay, Dean. But this is not our world, not our story to write. We need to go."

"Sure. Let us just say goodbye, okay?"

He motioned at Sam to come over, and the lanky young man looked at him questioningly.

"Time to go!" shouted Castiel, at which the dwarves all turned their head in their direction. Fíli laid his sword onto the ground and walked towards the three men. Kíli followed closely, as did Thorin and Balin. When the dwarves and men stood face to face, Fíli put his hand onto Castiel's arm.

"I owe you my life. Words cannot say how grateful I am, but please –", he reached into his boot, "take this as a token of my gratitude." It was a dagger, small even for dwarf standards, but with runes on the blade and a beautiful carving on the hilt. "I'm afraid we can't spare any more weapons, but this you shall have to remember us by." And he placed the dagger into Castiel's hand.

"I am most thankful," said the angel, and Dean could hear that he really meant it. "But remember that I couldn't have done it without your brother. Look out for him."

"Always."

He didn't need to say more. It might only have been one word, but it was a promise that somehow Dean knew he had made long before this day.

_Look out for Sammy. I know._

Fíli then turned towards Sam and Dean. From the corner of his eyes Dean could see Kíli pulling Castiel into a hug, whispering something that nobody could hear, though Dean had an idea of what he might say.

"Dean, Sam," began Fíli, only to be interrupted by Sam who pulled the dwarf nearer to him and Dean. The older hunter looked at him in surprise when he saw the serious expression on his brother's face. He seemed worried and... somehow sad. Why was he sad, wondered Dean, this may be a goodbye but we can't stay. Sam knows that.

"What is it, Sammy?" But Sam's eyes were on Fíli only.

"Fíli, listen to me. Don't ask me why, just listen. When... when it comes to battle..." He hesitated for a second, and Fíli eyed him in confusion.

"Battle? What are you talking about? Do you know about –", he lowered his voice, "Smaug?"

"No, no, not Smaug. Fíli, please just promise me that when it comes to war, don't try to be a hero. Stay out of trouble, stay safe, and keep Kíli safe."

"You talk in riddles, brother," mocked Dean half-heartedly, when inside his stomach clenched. What was Sam talking about? What did he know?

"Can you explain –"

"Sam! Dean! Let's go!"

Fíli never finished his question, and the uneasy feeling remained. For a last time the men and dwarves embraced.

"Have a safe journey," said Sam when he shook Thorin's hand, and the dwarven king smiled.

"You too, Sam, son of John. Mahzirikhi zu gang ghukhil."

"Mukhuh Mahal bakhuz murukhzu," added Balin, winking at the brothers.

Then Castiel took Dean's hand in his right and Sam's in his left, and suddenly everything became blurry. The last thing Dean heard where the shouts and gasps of surprise of the dwarves, before he fell into the abyss of time and space and knew he was going home.

* * *

Sam blinked and took a few deep breaths when the world around him resolved itself into solid forms again. He glanced over at Dean, who looked pale as usual after one of Castiel's trips. His brother didn't like this sort of travelling, but for someone who got a panic attack on a simple airplane he managed surprisingly well.

"Welcome home," said Castiel, and Dean grinned wryly as he grabbed the nearest water bottle and drank half of it quickly.

Sam tried to clear the mess in his head. Middle-Earth. Part of him thought that it had been nothing but a very vivid dream, but the leg of Dean's trousers was still shredded, and Cas held the dagger in his hand. It had been real.

Suddenly he felt Dean's hand on his shoulder. The older one gave him a scrutinising look and bit his lip before he spoke.

"Sam, what you told Fíli..."

The lanky Winchester flinched. He had hoped that Dean would have forgotten what he shouldn't have overheard in the first place.

"It's nothing, Dean."

"Don't lie. You know something. Sam, what battle? What is going to happen?"

"No, Dean, please don't go there."

"Tell me, Sam!" shouted Dean, frustration and worry evident in his voice. "Sam, that boy saved my life! He barely just survived that. Tell me he'll be alright. Sam!"

"It doesn't matter anyway," came a calm voice from behind them, and Sam turned on the spot, facing Castiel who looked at the brothers sincerely. Sam could feel his breath quickening.

"What do you mean, it doesn't matter?" he asked, trying to control his breathing. "Cas, I told him something important."

"He won't remember any of it," replied Castiel, and Sam stared at him in disbelief. It couldn't be true. "I'm sorry, Sam, but when we left I wiped their memory. It's better that way."

"But he needs to know!" yelled Sam, for a second feeling like he could throttle the angel. "Damnit Cas, he'll –"

He fell silent when he saw the look on Dean's face.

"He'll _what_, Sam?"

"Dean –"

But Castiel held up his hand, and both brothers hushed.

"Sam, his story has already been written. All their stories are. We cannot change that, you need to understand this. You have read it yourself, and you know how it'll end, and that's why you can't change it. I know it's a paradox, but you need to accept it."

"But we were there! Doesn't that change the story?"

The same moment he's asked the question, Sam knew the answer. They hadn't changed anything. Fíli was unhurt, they had left the corpses of the orcs and spiders behind so none of the dwarves would have any suspicion, and the company was still on their way to the Lonely Mountain. He and Dean had, for a short time, been a part of the story, but in the end nothing had been changed.

"What story?" repeated Dean almost angrily, rolling his eyes when Sam ignored him.

"I don't understand, though," said Sam quietly. "Middle-Earth isn't real! It's all just in a book, so how could we go there as if it really exists? And how could we even understand the dwarves? Apart from their own language, Khuzdul – for God's sake, Dean, don't give me that look! -, the common tongue of Middle-Earth is Westron. I'm quite sure they shouldn't speak English."

Castiel chuckled as if Sam had said something completely stupid.

"Oh Sam! Have you never dreamed yourself to be part of that world? Did you not fight dragons with your heroes in the books that you read, and were you not able to speak to them?"

"I did," said Sam truthfully, ignoring Dean's grin.

"Well, there you have your answer."

"I still don't understand it."

"As long as you believed it once, it will forever be real for you. As long as there are people like you out there, who lose themselves in the pages of a book and live in the world that springs from the letters, those worlds will always be real. Those who believe will find them eventually."

Sam needed some time to let the words sink in, and he was grateful that neither Dean nor Castiel said a word. He could feel himself beginning to smile. He might not have changed the history of Midde-Earth, but he had been there. And maybe, just maybe, he might go there again. For now, that had to be enough.

Dean had listened to Castiel's words, and the mocking grin had faded during the angel's short speech. He sat down at the table and fetched the computer.

"What are you doing?" asked Sam curiously. Usually Dean liked to relax in front of the TV, beer in hand, after an adventure like this. His brother looked up from the screen and offered a lopsided smile.

"I need to order a book."

And that, thought Sam, was probably even more of a miracle than the encounter with the dwarves in that mysterious world called Middle-Earth.

* * *

"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us."

_(J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings)_

* * *

**A/N 1:**

**_Mahzirikhi zu gang ghukhil._ = Have a safe journey.**

**_Mukhuh Mahal bakhuz murukhzu._ = May Mahal's hammer shield you. (Needless to say I MUST learn that by heart because it's such a great blessing!)**

**A/N 2: Castiel's part about how we fight dragons with our heroes was actually inspired by a Taylor Swift song. Yes, I will bow my head in shame ;) Seriously though, there's a multifandom video on YT with that song (called "All the magic we made") and I love the line _"I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you"_. **

**A/N 3:**

**Thank you for sticking with this story until the end. I've got another Hobbit story in my head (actually the first 2 chapters are already finished) but it'll be tougher to write than this so I'd rather keep writing first before I start publishing.**


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